


Total Bullshit

by OfficialHermitsUnited



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:38:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4894948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialHermitsUnited/pseuds/OfficialHermitsUnited
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This narrative describes the author of this story being sucked from her original home in the United States to the Universe of Harry Potter just days after the resurrection of the Dark Lord Voldemort, where her obsession with reading fanfiction (and occasional erotica) about the character Severus Snape comes back to bite her in the ass, so she decides to do exactly what she would have done were she writing fanfiction of the original canon, and uses every power at her disposal to rewrite the lives of those she grows to care about in this familiar and deadly world of magic, villains, and weirdly true love. Protagonist is 18 y/o and above from the beginning. Expect some pretty graphic descriptions of erotic scenes, my personal battles with mental and physical issues/disabilities, and violence throughout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash Landing

She felt like she had just woken up from a nap outside, with sweet air filling her nostrils and a light breeze moving in her hair. The terrain beneath her was soft dirt like the fresh turned stuff in her mom’s garden, with a few pebbles and felt vaguely damp in the way that good dirt does. There were voices, masculine in their cadence, that seemed to come from an odd angle, but they approached slowly. Her eyes were open, and she was struck at the beauty of looking up at the galaxies and constellations in the sky. She’d never been to a dark zone where the light pollution was so low, and it was her whole world for a few minutes until a pure white light came into view and drowned it out.

“Turn it off!” she cried, “I can’t see the stars!”

She registered the blessed relief of the light dying, and her eyes readjusted to the absolute darkness, the colors and hues returning to her like a favorite page in a book.

“What are you?” came the strong – and English – voice of an elderly male.

“You know that’s not too specific,” she replied conversationally. “I mean, at risk of being pretentious, I’m lots of things. _Homo Sapiens_ for starters if that’s what you’re interested in, arguably an adult, arguably a woman. I’m under the impression that I’m a person, though that’s been brought into question just like everything else.” Silence on the other end of the line. “What are you, and how many are you? I’m but one.”

“We are two,” answered a much younger and also English adult male voice, “humans as well, men. We were notified of unusual cosmic activity in this area and came out to investigate.”

She looked around for a second and realized she couldn’t move her head. She couldn’t move anything. She was buried in soft loose dirt with only pieces of her body visible, and fucking naked at that. She sighed.

“Am I in a crater?”

“Yes, we believe so.”

“I think I crash landed. I can’t really move right now, by the way. Reentry into the atmosphere would burn off my clothes, but why not my hair? Have ya’ll got a blanket or somethin’?”

“Merlin, where are you from?”

Let it be a statement of just exactly how far deep into Harry Potter Fanfiction she’s been for several years for that exclamation to have gone clear over her head.

“Um, the United States? North Carolina? … Where am I now?”

“Scotland, out in the middle of the countryside.”

She felt winded all of a sudden.

“May we come down and see if we can get you out of this hole?”

“Please do,” she told them, focusing on her breathing. This sort of thing had happened once before (the inability to move, not the human-meteorite landing in foreign countries silliness) a few years prior in her timeline, and she was far more mentally prepared than she had been then.

To her utter surprise and absolute horror none other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore came over the crest of the crater: brightly colored clothing, pointy hat, high heeled boots and everything, brandishing an actual _wand_. ( _What in the ever-loving fuck was going on?)_ After him comes this guy, maybe thirty something with this big nose, greasy ass hair, and this sneer that could melt a hole through your head – _holy shit that’s Severus Snape_ – but he stayed up at the top of the mound of dirt.

“You claim you cannot move?” Dumbledore asks, this kindly old grandfather aura surrounding him.

“No, it hurts too much. I think I have whiplash. If you could temporarily block my pain sensors I could probably walk out of here,” She suggested. She tried her best to remain neutral to magic, if they knew that she knew about magic – especially if she couldn’t use it – they might become suspicious of her.

Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose and he nodded, waving the glowing tip of his wand over her head and down the length of her body. Relief and complete disconnection from her nervous system flooded through her and she breathed deeply before moving her limbs. It was slow work to get up, but eventually she got up into a sitting position, brushing the dirt off of her skin sluggishly from being unable to feel her own hand on her skin. Dumbledore put some kind of cloak over her to protect her modesty, which she thanked him for sincerely, and with a little help she stood up. She could feel how her knees wanted to give out beneath her, but through pure stubbornness she got up the hill of dirt and stood at the top next to Snape, who – in her paranoia of men – she noticed gave her exposed legs a look that was something like the length of a glance and the weight of a stare. It was easy to see most of the details of her companions in the amazing light of the stars, which her eyes were drawn to yet again. Dumbledore came up next to her, and she had the distinct impression she was between two large sources of power, something she wouldn’t have normally felt or noticed.

“What’s your name?” Snape asked quietly in this very commanding sort of tone. She just gave him a look that said “really?” and got caught up in trying to remember. She knew this would happen eventually. Why did she never invest in the bracelet she was going to get made?

“We do need to know, dear child,” Dumbledore pressed gently.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Snape sneered.

“I remember my food allergies, the names and birthdays of both of my parents, the status of my rabbit farm, the names of all the adult rabbits that I owned, the school I wanted to go to, every little detail of where I’m from, but… I can’t remember my name. I mean,” she said in a jesting voice, “it’s not like I could’a’ remembered it on a good day but this is unusual.”

“You’ll need one to get by when we take you to civilization to get your situation sorted out,” Dumbledore told her.

“Er… Peregrin? Peregrin Took - from the Lord of the Rings.”

Snape snorted, now net to her, and she elbowed him in the arm for good measure.

“It will do for now. We shall need to travel to Hogwarts, the school near here that I am the Headmaster of, and have you examined for injuries sustained during your fall.”

“That sounds like a plan. I do have a question though. What’s today’s date?”

“June Thirtieth, Nineteen Ninety Five.” She choked. Voldemort had been resurrected just the week before, these men were in the middle of war, and she had pulled some Doctor Who TARDIS bullshit and ended up back 20 years and so many months and days in an entirely different world. Fuck.

“What’s the matter?” Dumbledore inquired.

“I haven’t even been born yet,” she whispered, this positively silly grin on her face. “I haven’t been born, and neither have any of my friends. In fact I don’t think I’m the version of me that will be born in a few years. I guess this proves the Multiverse theory,” she smiled at both of them in a stretched tight fashion and ran her fingers through her hair even though she still couldn’t feel it, breathing deeply. “Furthermore, I’m covered in the diseases of the future I belong to. Twenty years from now there are mega viruses that are immune to all medication, flesh eating bacteria, parasites and all kinds of crazy stuff so you should burn your clothes and bathe thoroughly after we get to Hogwarts where I ought to be quarantined so I don’t kill everybody I come in contact with.”

“That’s very forward thinking of you, Peregrin,” Dumbledore noted, eyebrows raised. Even Snape looked vaguely surprised.

Her knee started wobbling, and as Snape was closer and generally more fit looking than wizened old Dumbledore, she grabbed his sleeve in a fiercely tight grip before she could fall.

“It’s about time we got on isn’t it?” she asked, Snape somehow miraculously taking a hint. He, to Peregrins surprise and relief, picked her up bridal fashion for apparition. She looked back at Dumbledore tiredly, and she swore the twinkle of mischief in his eye she’d read about so much was evident beneath the stars in his light blue eyes.

With a sucking feeling all around her, they landed before a pair of wrought iron gates flanked by two winged boars. She felt a slight panic from the sudden change in venue, and her arms clenched around Snape’s scrawny shoulders a little tighter, breathing deeply into his neck. He smelled good. Not just alright like he didn’t stink, but really _really_ good. It could have been his cologne, his body wash, the scent of Hogwarts itself clinging to his very pores, or even the pheromones he was emitting but holy shit she wanted to smell this all the time. While her nose and mouth were focused on the wonderful smell surrounding her, Peregrins eyes took in the beautiful architecture Hogwarts was made of, the stone archways and large wooden doors were beautiful and old as fuck in the torchlight, a great combination in her mind. Of course randy teenager, years of obsessive erotica, and compatible pheromones never go together, so by the time they reached the doors to the infirmary she was a little hot and bothered, not that she let on to it at all. It must have been awkward enough for Snape to be carrying around some stranger in the form of a child-woman without the factors of arousal to figure in. He made no comment and held her firmly in his grasp until they came to one of the private rooms of the infirmary. They passed several beds in absolute silence, as it was the middle of the night, and she recognized a wild fuzz of black hair with glasses on the table next to it and piles of sweets and get well cards next to the bed. _It’s Harry freakin Potter_ she thought dazedly as they passed.

Snape put her down with a surprising gentleness in the vacant bed of the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey herself giving an introduction for all three of them after Snape pointed out that Peregrin had never asked for their names. Peregrin smiled and thanked them both, reminding them about burning their clothes, to which Snape nodded and departed solemnly. Dumbledore stayed just long enough to catch her age of eighteen years, and departed as well most likely to scheme for a bit and catch some much needed rest.

She was finally relieved of Dumbledore’s traveling cloak, allowed to bathe, and put to bed with a sleeping draught, a pain reliever, and a hospital gown. She lay awake for a good twenty minutes, allowing the pain reliever to take effect before using the sleeping draught as instructed, and thought about what had happened. There would be time to grieve on the morrow, and she had some beautiful sleep to catch up on, so she finally downed the odd tasting concoction and let oblivion take over.


	2. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Peregrin woke up once again in an unfamiliar environment, an occurrence she was already getting tired of, to glimpse the trailing end of black robes and a very specific scent lingering in the air. She decided to put it out of her mind and started her morning stretches to loosen her aching and tired muscles. Surprisingly she wasn’t in much pain, a fact for which she was immensely grateful. What luck to have landed in a world with healing magic and potions? She noticed at the edge of her vision the distortion of the light and reached out to find there was a bubble surrounding her. _It must be the quarantine._ Scents and the breeze could enter and pass through the bubble, but it must have been keyed to bacteria and viruses.

Madam Pomfrey walked in after a few moments, and flinched at the cracking noises Peregrin’s joints made as she cracked every vertebra in her spine.

“Merlin, child, you sound like me,” she said exasperatedly. She handed Peregrin a few more potions to drink. “The Headmaster told me about your request for quarantine, and this special ward has been cleansing you through the night; you should be ready to go by lunch time.”

Peregrin smiled as the Healer left her room and set about figuring out how she was supposed to put on the robes laid out for her. Thankfully there were both undergarments and trousers provided, she hated wearing dresses sometimes and it felt safer to have the cloth against the skin of her thighs. Finally dressed in the multilayered garments, she ate the breakfast provided and noticed a book on her bed stand.

_“Crash Course in General Magic for the Amnesia Patient_ by Roderick van Woordrine” was on the cover. She hopped up on the windowsill of the private room and started reading. The author’s dry humor was suited to her tastes, and the instructions were simple, though they were exclusively useful for wand work she tried them out with her hands. _Wingardium Leviosa_ worked well enough and she almost screamed when the cup she’d used for pumpkin juice _actually rose from the table._ She was in the middle of working on a larger version of the spell to test her boundaries when Snape reappeared in the doorway. It took a lot of concentration on her part to keep the books, silverware, and pillow afloat around her, but she was proud of herself when they held steady as she met his gaze.

“You’ll get no points for showing off,” he told her, closing the door behind him.

Peregrin very carefully let everything down to the mattress, and turned around to look at him. She could smell him all the way across the room, that wonderful decadent scent that grew more mouthwatering by the second. “Will I get any for having just learned how to do that?”

Snape paused. “You’ve never learned how to harness your magic before?” he asked incredulously.

“No, before I fell out of the sky I don’t think I had any.” Peregrin raised a hand to _Accio_ the boots sitting in the corner, and they flew into her hands. Pulling them on, she marveled at how perfectly sized they were for her feet.

“And you’ve never owned a wand?” he probed further.

“No, but I know what one is. Do you think I might go to… Ollivanders? The Wand shop, that’s its name, right?”

Snape stared at her, weighing the question for it’s revealing nature. “You’ve never had magic before, and you claim not to be of this… universe, yet you know of a single wand shop, it’s name, and it’s purpose?” he raised an eyebrow.

Peregrin shrugged. “I’ll tell you how I know if you tell me why you’re so fascinated by my legs.”

He might not have noticed her noticing, but he’d stared at them the night before, and her legs had been completely uncovered from the blankets on her bed when she’d woken up and he’d surely seen.

To her satisfaction small splotches of pink colored his cheeks before they disappeared in his anger. “The Headmaster has invited you to lunch with the staff and has asked me to escort you,” he told her in a testy voice.

She smiled, knowing she’d hit the right chord, and stood. “Best not to keep him waiting then, hm?” She stepped right up to him, and she could see the challenge in the lines of his body. He wasn’t much taller than she was, only a few inches, and she looked up into his coal black eyes, almost bored through the fringe of her bangs. They were very close in that moment, inches apart, and he found his offensive.

“Never mind your legs, what about last night? When I was carrying you through the halls I could smell,” his voice was barely even a whisper, an evil sort of smile on his face that hardly garnered a reaction from her, “your _arousal._ ”

“That sounds like a very normal reaction for a woman who comes in contact with someone else who has a compatible immune system. Try not to take it too personally, at this point anything that moves gets that reaction.” She kept her face as neutral as possible.

“Really? _Personally_? What am I to make of you _sniffing_ me every time we come into contact, that my _immune system_ is doing it to you?”

“If it helps you sleep at night,” she replied, giving him a bemused smile. “We do need to be getting on, they’ll wonder what you’re doing to me-“ Snape snarled and had her pressed up against the wall in two seconds with his forearm against her throat. The breath went out of her, and she felt her eyes dilate with the adrenaline and arousal running though her, but rather than fighting back she relaxed into her position between him and the wall, smiling in the face of his threat. She felt the wand in it’s holster within his sleeve press against her larynx.

“I haven’t done anything… _yet_ ,” he whispered, baring his teeth like some kind of feral beast.

After a pause in which Peregrin got reign over her impulses, she shot back “Make your move or let me be.”

“I’d much rather leave you suspended here, descending into base instincts, begging, _anticipating_ ,” as he said it her muscles twitched, longing to tackle him like he deserved. A hand went through her short hair, testing it’s feel, testing her self control. Her breath shuddered involuntarily when his nails scraped over her scalp, eyes going farther out of focus with every stroke though they were glued to the curve of his thin unforgiving mouth.

She licked her dry lips, which was apparently the right move because he finally dipped his head to meet her mouth. She’d never kissed anybody before or been kissed, but she knew what the big deal was now. It wasn’t practiced or perfect, but it sent tendrils of flame down between her legs, and his forearm moved to brace against the wall as he pressed himself further against her, their bodies molding together. She was positively shaking with pure sexual tension, tentatively rubbing herself over the bulge in his trousers. Making small, needy sounds into their fervent snogging, she wrapped her arms around his neck and ground herself against him in earnest, and he growled, frotting back in answer. His free hand slid down her lower back to her ass, gripping and rubbing down to her upper thigh, pulling impatiently to make her hike her leg up around his hip, followed by the other.

He had her digging into the wall, holding her ass in both hands now, eliciting moans and sighs from her with every kiss, every stroke. The heat was exquisite, and the temperature around them soared higher when he abandoned her mouth to latch on to her exposed neck so he could concentrate on grinding in earnest, her hands fisted in his hair and robes, and her legs tightened around his lower back. Peregrin finally dissolved into a shaking mess, back arching off the wall and she cried out with the smallest sounds she could manage as he prolonged her orgasm whilst continuing to grind and caress until he cried out too. He allowed them to slide down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, Peregrin facing him in his lap, wrapped around him loosely.

“Fuck,” Peregrin breathed languidly into Snape’s neck.

“Indeed,” he agreed, his voice husky.

She hugged him a little closer, prolonging the inevitable and feeling how relaxed and boneless they both were, slumped together on the floor as they were. He took his wand out and she felt the spunk leave both of their clothes, the smell of sweat and sex that had pervaded the air dissipated with another stroke. His fingers went through her hair, trying to right it so that she looked a little less like she’d just been groped to death against a wall. She did the same, earning her a flinch at first, but she soldiered on not minding the silky strands beneath her fingers. His fingers traced the bite mark on her neck, and the slight sting dissolved into nothing as the love bite disappeared from her bare skin, an act that felt even more intimate than the one they’d just performed. He finally sighed, the tightness returning to the muscles beneath her hands, and he pushed her gently off his lap so that he could stand and help her up. She leaned back against the wall for support as he waved his wand again to get rid of the wrinkles in their clothes.

“Look angry and defiant,” he told her, picking up one of the books from the bed she’d been levitating and threw it through the window. Snape threw the door open wide with a bang, striding out in full furious billowing glory, and Peregrin schooled her face into a mask of defiance, following him out and keeping pace with him as Madam Pomfrey scolded him for making such a ruckus before he billowed out and Peregrin thanked the Nurse sincerely and apologized for the mess before following Snape down the hall.

The portraits on the wall, which all thought of had been wiped clean from her mind, moved and chattered and waved at her from their frames on the walls. Outside it was summer, the warm sun filtering through the windows lining the hallway as they turned and twisted and went up and down stairs to where a large pair of double doors sat slightly ajar, just wide enough to admit one person at a time. The anticipation wrankled at her for a moment, but Peregrin got herself together so she wouldn’t make too big of a fool of herself gawking about at the architecture. She could do that on her own later.

The ceiling was everything she’d hoped it would be, a beautiful magical rendition of the midday sky, little clouds floating lazily past overhead along the blue sky. It gave her a sense of peace to know the sky was still there just like the one she remembered. Walking behind and slightly to the side of Snape, she saw the table set up only for the staff in the middle, as the students had left that same day on the train. She was introduced to each attending professor in turn and made sure to have her best most jovial-yet-laid-back Hufflepuffian attitude.

Her seat was in between Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch and directly across from Snape. From the presented attitudes it seemed like they were the only two who could keep him in check, and as Peregrin was a wild card she was out there as well just in case. Professor Hagrid (Peregrin smiled at him sincerely down the table) laughed in his booming voice with Professor Flitwick, a diminutive little half goblin who was definitely more powerful than his size let on. Dumbledore clapped his hands and the sandwich fixings appeared on the table before them for which she was immensely grateful. After a few bites her instinctual wildness calmed down after her metabolism was satisfied that she would live to see the next hour, Professor McGonagall got a hold of her for conversation.

“My dear, Peregrin was it? Where do you receive your education?” the Professor asked in her Scottish brogue.

Looking into the Professors lively green eyes, Peregrin couldn’t lie. She respected her too much already for her attitude, her role in the war that was and the war to come, and her teaching style and aptitude.

Peregrin leaned close, an imploring look in her hazel eyes. “I was a muggle until about twelve hours ago. I don’t know how I got here, or where the magic came from, but I have it now. I know it sounds a little wild, but the Headmaster can back my claim up if it seems too outrageous.” Leaning back she continued. “I received my education in my owns local public education system up through the eighth grade at age fourteen, and moved on to a more advanced charter school on the campus of our local community college where I earned my Diploma with full honors credit, and earned my Degree there as well.”

“You have a degree already?” she asked, obviously familiar with the idea.

“Yes that was the point of the charter school was to be prepared for college and whatnot. I earned my Degree a month before my Diploma.”

Professor McGonagall seemed impressed by this, though Peregrin wasn’t sure she understood the idea fully. “You were going to go to college? My goodness how old are you?”

“I’m eighteen.”

“You couldn’t be more than sixteen!” exclaimed the professor sitting to the left of Snape, Sinistra maybe?

Peregrin smiled at this. She did have a young face for someone her age, but she liked to use that to her advantage. Obviously Snape didn’t mind it or their tryst wouldn’t have been permitted. She knew him to be somewhat amoral when it came to his students but she wouldn’t call him a molester of children.

“What were you going to study?” Professor Babbling asked from Snape’s right. Snape rolled his eyes at the more inane nature of the questions but Professor McGonagall cut him a glare.

“I wanted to be a Community Librarian, and I was going to earn my Masters to do it with,” Peregrin replied.

“Being a librarian seems awfully boring,” Madam Hooch declared, munching on a cucumber slice.

“Maybe the kind that _ssssshh_ people, but I could never be one of those, I talk too much. The library that I worked at as a substitute was the heart and soul of my community. After the factories were outsourced most of the life left the town and the library was the only free service left. I got to help a lot of different people find information, learn how to use a computer, find local resources, that sort of thing.”

“You can use a computer?” Professor Sinistra asked incredulously.

“Well I could, but I don’t know if I could touch one now without shorting it,” Peregrin admitted.

“Can you explain what the internet is then?” Professor McGonagall asked, sounding truly interested.

Peregrin’s eyes went wide. “That is a big question. It’s um… it’s every single piece of information imaginable available at the push of a button. I mean you can learn about pretty much anything on the internet, lies or truths or the kinds of things that make up the universes all the way down to atoms and quarks and their behaviors. Of course people mostly use it for pornography, to argue pointlessly, and to look at pictures of cute animals.”

Professor McGonagall stared at her. “All of that in that plastic box?”

“It’s connected to wires and satellites in space that send signals to the place where the actual “internet” is stored somewhere in the United States, but yeah it’s all in that box.”

Her captive audience seemed a little stunned, and even Snape seemed like he was trying not to pay attention.

They left her to eat, and to digest this new information. Snape finally made eye contact with her and gave her a contemptuous look. She acknowledged him with a lazy smile, leaning back in her chair.

“Has the Headmaster let anything on to you about a date yet?” she asked him quietly, unheard by their female companions who chattered with their neighbors and ate noisily.

Snape’s frame stiffened, but only slightly. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know as well as I do what he plans to do. He’s bad enough at hiding his designs as it is to the watchful eye.”

“Soon, within the week most likely.”

She nodded, glancing down the table at the Headmaster before looking down at her hands in her lap, looking at the scars still on the sides of her wrists from making wire cages not a few days ago. Their symmetry often drew her eye, pairs of red scabs perfectly spaced apart, though winding in their length, and she noticed then how her hand shook. Why…? She immediately took to eating another sandwich and drinking more fluid, hoping to stem the shaking, and noticed how cold she was feeling, realizing where the issue lay. Slowly she began to shiver, and tried her best to keep her teeth from clattering together though that proved to be in vain. This, embarrassingly, brought the attention of Snape’s inquiring stare. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged helplessly through the shaking.

_“Warm yourself up”_ he mouthed at her.

“ _How?”_ she mouthed back in confusion, rubbing her hands over the backs of her arms.

He gave her a look like she was being particularly dense and replied “ _Magic?”_

Summoning her brainpower, she imagined the warmth of a really nice hug… which led her to thoughts about orgasms against walls with the man seated across from her. The heat flared around her just as it was borne in the pit of her abdomen, and Professor McGonagall turned to look, obviously more attuned to the temperature difference than Madam Hooch. Peregrin tried to tone it down just a bit, and threw the sordid imagery out of her head to replace it with something much more platonic. The warmth was far more bearable now, though she fairly radiated heat waves through the air like a space heater.

“Cold?” the Professor asked her with a half smile.

“Not anymore,” Peregrin told her with a smile.


	3. Asserting Dominance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe me it's less kinky than you might think.

One week passed before anything of note truly happened after that heated tryst in the Hospital Wing. Peregrin hung around in the library more often than usual, missing her old Public Library terribly as she wandered the gigantic stacks. Once or twice the Librarian, Madam Pince, had come through to check that she wasn’t doing anything she ought not to be, and finally Peregrin decided it couldn’t hurt to strike up a conversation with the elderly woman. When she paced by again, Peregrin was ready.

“Excuse me, are you the Librarian?”

Thin and irritable looking, she peered at Peregrin like she were an especially untrustworthy insect. “Yes, I am. And who are you?”

“Peregrin,” she told the older woman, sticking out a hand to shake.

There was a moment in which Madam Pince stared at Peregrin’s hand and then her face, deciding if she was sincere, before taking it, seeming surprised at her sure firm grip.

“Madam Irma Pince, Hogwarts Librarian for ninety nine years running. Severus told me that before you came here you worked at a Community Library. Do you have any interests in continuing down that line of work?”

“I do, yes ma’am. Before… coming here I intended to earn education towards becoming a Librarian, but I’m not sure about the difference in requirements now that I’ve switched countries. Would you happen to know how I could get off to a good start?”

Madam Prince appraised her for a moment. “I gained my position when I was just a few years older than you are now after only six months of apprenticeship. Of course my situation is special, my predecessor died on the job leaving me with the bare minimum of training to take over as Head Librarian, and so my one hundredth anniversary lands just before Yuletide.”

They walked through the stacks as the older woman dusted along the covers with almost loving carefulness.

“Would you consider taking on an apprentice? I’ve recently found myself in need of employment and lodgings, and what better place to learn than Hogwarts with someone so experienced? Even if you don’t intend on retiring it would be an honor to apprentice under you as long as you’ll have me. My only credentials can come from word of mouth, I’m afraid my previous employers are… unavailable. I volunteered for a year before being hired as a substitute, which lasted eight months before I left.”

Madam Pince looked almost surprised. “I haven’t had an apprentice in more than fifty years. I shall look into the benefits and speak with the Headmaster. May I ask why you left?”

“I had to move countries for personal reasons. I left amicably.”

“I will review my options and owl you with more information on how to proceed.”

Shaking her hand once again with a short bow, Peregrin thanked her sincerely and barely made it on time to dinner with the Professors. As she came down the stairs to the landing, paying close attention to each step in case she hit one of the trick steps (again), she bumped right into Snape coming up the stair to the dungeon, who had been buried in a large tome. She wondered for a fleeting moment if he had been avoiding her except for meals, but she supposed it could be true that they wouldn’t have seen much of each other unless they’d purposely been seeking to do so. He looked slightly annoyed after she’d handed him his book off the floor, dusting it off carefully.

“It seems neither of us can watch where we’re going,” beating him to any quips about her lack of vigilance. “Anything interesting?” she asked, motioning to the old book.

“Sixteenth century findings on a property of moonstone that my research is in need of,” he replied, carefully re marking his place. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning to the door.

“If we must,” Peregrin smiled up at him when he opened the door for her and stepped on through to meet Dumbledore’s twinkling gaze head on at the end of the long table. The old man was duplicitous by nature, his doddering eccentricities hiding what her gut told her was a conniving manipulative calculating son of a bitch. Of course, in present company they kept it generally pleasant and cordial, giving no indication as to their inner scheming but it was happening, and by the lines of Severus’ body he saw through it and understood. It would happen, and soon.

 

"Oh for fucks sake," Peregrin growled angrily, sitting down in a fit of pique. Her ankle started spiking pain into her foot as she walked down the stairs, and she decided the worst of it would pass soon enough if she stayed off the foot.

One of the portraits _tsked_ her just down the way, to which she huffed in annoyance. As all the Fates would have it, another more compassionate portrait went to find help, which lo and behold turned out to be Snape. He didn't bother to hurry, as she wasn't crying or screaming in pain, but as he approached he raised an eyebrow at her now naked and swollen foot.

"Do you get into a habit of hurting yourself?"

"Do you get into a habit of asking questions you already know the answer to?" she groused back, though not with any real heat.

He came up to her, sitting down by her foot to examine it more closely. "How exactly did this happen?"

"I don't know, my joints and muscles don't always like to cooperate with me and I guess they're tired of me walking right now."

"Is it chronic?" he asked in an almost clinical tone. Peregrin nodded.

"I see. Well, when your citizenship is secure I'm sure you can go to the hospital. Healthcare is free to Magical British citizens and only the best have passed my class to go on to be Healers."

Peregrin smiled at that, wincing when he tapped it lightly with his wand. He stood abruptly, the lines of his figure hardening with something like disdain, and she looked over her shoulder to find Headmaster Dumbledore up at the top of the stairs looking on. Peregrin stood too, leaning against the wall for support as the swelling went down.

"I require both of you in my office if you are available."

Peregrin and Snape looked at each other for a split second and followed the wizened old man up to the gargoyle statue where she knew his office was.

"Salt Water Taffy" he told the statue and it leapt aside to admit the three of them. The four huge hourglasses stood against the wall, all of the lovely gemstones glittering at the bottom in dormant piles. The escalator stairs moved more smoothly than any of the mechanical versions she'd personally ridden, and they walked through the large doors to Dumbledore’s knickknack filled office. Te portraits of many old Headmasters and Headmistresses adorned the walls, their faces looking down upon them with great interest. Fawkes the Phoenix sat atop his perch near the window preening, beautiful in his prime with his feathers and plumage shining brilliantly like fire as he shifted in the light.

Peregrin waited with Snape until Dumbledore sat and directed them to be seated in the cushy old chairs on the other side of his large paper covered desk.

“I’ve called you here to alert you of your options henceforth, Peregrin. Your citizenship can only be acquired at this point through marriage to a current male citizen of the Wizarding World. Your name will immediately be put in the works for official legal existence in our world, and you will be eligible for all rights and customs befitting a citizen of Magical Britain.”

Peregrin took all this in completely still, unblinking and unmoving. She glanced over at Snape who looked a bit bored with a twinge of distinct disdain.

“And?” she asked calmly. “You would like me to marry someone of your choosing, someone under your thumb who also might have the ability to control whatever gifts I may have been given, someone of a decent age for the match, a man whose marriage would most likely go unnoticed by the general public. Someone, who if I were to oblige, would generate a need for induction into certain circles including but not limited to Hogwarts Staff, The Order of the Phoenix, and by extension the inner ring of the Wizarding K-K-K. Why should I? What’s in it for me?”

“Satisfaction of your inner need for social justice through the deaths of those who would seek to harm the innocent simply because they were born, a contact with great knowledge in magic, immediate sources of income and housing, an ear to your future knowledge to help turn the tides as you see them, and acceptance of your application to the library assistants position you’ve requested. I can also arrange prenuptial agreements as you see fit.”

Peregrin sat back in the large chair and thought about it for a long moment, focusing on the heartbeats in the room. The paintings held none, but the Phoenix heart was a thrumming cadence when she reached for it with her magic. Dumbledore’s from a safe distance was ancient, but strong in a way that surprised her, and Snape’s was arrhythmic, taking fits occasionally.

“Don’t you want to ask who?” Dumbledore wondered aloud.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, there’s no other logical reason to have him in here with us, unless you just wanted a witness to your murder to compose an epitaph? We can work out the details as they come to them, but for now I agree that would be the best option. Have you been asked?”

She was turned to Snape now. He bristled and took a bitter resentful tone. “Asked? Told certainly, commanded, instructed, never asked.”

Peregrin sighed. “I can’t cook except the absolute basics, I can clean and be neighborly and fix things on my own usually. I will not bear children though the idea of adoption isn’t repulsive, and I will not take shit from anyone, especially not someone I’m living with. Mary me for my selfish purposes and I won’t forsake you.”

“ _Won’t_ forsake me? You can’t promise that,” Snape accused, baring his awful teeth at her in a snarl.

“Well if you’d stop being so confrontational for about two seconds and actually look with your eyes and not with your screwed up perception, you just might see that I’m not making an idle promise. I take these sorts of things very seriously.”

Crossing his arms defensively he huffed. ”I’ll do it.” _Jesus fuck_ he was a _child_.

Instead of angry or indignant at his attitude, she just felt sad. Dumbledore was watching her expressions, but she didn’t hide them. Snape only took her sympathy for pity and seemed to harden himself further against her. _And here I thought we might get along._

“How soon can we complete the ceremony?” Peregrin prompted, turning back to Dumbledore, all business again.

“As soon as this evening. The official from the ministry will arrive by mid afternoon after my summons, and you’ll simply exchange rings and sign the proper forms. You may sort out names and properties in the meantime, however your main objective would be to obtain rings for the ceremony itself.”

The walk from the front gates was balmy with a light breeze, and to Peregrin’s delight her selective obliviousness was still vaguely existent and she didn’t have to be apart of Snape’s gloomy atmosphere. The birds chirped, the breeze tasted of the sweetness of summer, and the sun was actually shining, the grass was soft, the pathway crunchy, and for once nothing hurt, not even the residual pains from her ankle.

The moment they were out of the winged boar gates, he was on her. “You don’t get to be happy about this,” he growled angrily, going for a wrist to pull her by, but basic Hapkido defense certification wasn’t gained by lollygagging, and she twisted her arm out of his grasp, catching him in a finger lock before he could grab his wand.

“Correction, _boy,_ you don’t get to be negative. If I have to put up with your petulant whiny ass you’re going to give me as little shit as possible about it. I will fuck you when we’re agreeable to it, care for you in your time of need, and defend your life for the rest of ours and you will not _grieve_ and _abuse_ me for it or I will _fuck. You. Up._ _Do you understand?”_ she grasped his middle finger a little tighter, applying the gentlest weight and he cried out, going down on one knee. She stared right into his mean black eyes challengingly, and after he found he couldn’t enter her mind by force he submitted.

“I understand.”

She let his hand go easily enough, picking him up by one arm to set him to rights and heal his finger joints up. “You make it so much harder than it needs to be,” Peregrin grumbled at him, running her fingers through her hair. “Are we going to the jewelers or are we going to just stand here all day?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do in fact have Hapkido self defense training. Hapkido is a Korean martial art that usually involves weapons but can be harnessed for hand to hand combat situations, and I learned Peregrin's defensive technique in less than ten minutes. It really doesn't take much to execute, I recommend it for everybody.


	4. Ancient Deities can't have wands, silly!

Peregrin woke up in the perfect environment. The air was cool and only a little damp, the blankets were toasty warm, and she couldn’t see a damn thing. There was an almost creeping suspicion she had that she had something on her thighs but she ignored it because she didn’t want to deal with it just yet. Her back was on fire, almost sweaty against… another back in the same state. She scooted away just a tad to let the air circulate and breathed a bit easier. The clock was just barely visible but if she really stared she could make out the dimly glowing hands which read something like three or four in the morning. She sighed. The wedding band was a comfortable weight on her finger, well crafted, simple, and of proper fit to stay on through hell and back, which was what her vagina felt like had happened. She knew it wasn’t time just yet and thought about it for a half a second. Sleep fogged wasn’t Peregrin at her highest cognitive function, but she could remember a few things. A) not a virgin any more B) holy shit C) triple holy fucking shit.

She finally got the gumption to get up and find the bathroom, which was just across the way with nothing to stub a toe on, and the sconces lit as soon as she closed the door behind her. A smear of blood coated her inner thighs, not that that was scary, normal really, but the origin of soreness was. Cleaning the mess up she grumbled to herself drowsily, and eventually went back to the bed, curling up in the warmth that another body provided.

In the morning she woke up to an alarm that had the wall sconces emitting a faint glow enough to see where one wanted to walk in the windowless suite. Stumbling into the bathroom before her… husband even got the chance to crack an eye, she hopped into the shower to wash off the previous days residue and finally brush her teeth. A second toothbrush had been provided and she was scrubbing and spitting when a very naked and very grumpy Severus Snape shuffled into the bathroom to shower.

By the time he was done Peregrin was in the office portion of the rooms, where a second desk had appeared overnight, and was enjoying a large peach with a cup of strong tea. Robes had been set out like every other day (where did they come from?), and the chair was the perfect kind of supportive but soft. The paper from Severus’ desk was in her hands and she gulped in every detail of the moving pictures, more lifelike than the .gifs she was used to on the internet. It came as no surprise that there was a full two page spread on how the “Chosen One” was a compete sham for speaking out about “He Who Shall Not Be Named.” Reta Skeeter, even with the power of her Quick Notes Quill, couldn’t evade grammar mistakes in several instances, which Peregrin snickered over maliciously whilst making a mess of her face with the juicy peach.

With an apprehensive expression Severus walked into the room clad in trousers and a shirt, and sat a small vial next to the cuppa.

“I saw the flannel you used. Does it hurt?”

“A little I guess. It’ll hurt a lot worse when I start walking today but I’ll be fine,” she told him.

“That’s a general pain remedy used for menstrual cramps and other… vaginal discomforts that should be ingested with a meal. I suggest you take it as we have a long day ahead of us.”

Smiling up at him she downed the vial, shivered uncontrollably at the awful flavor, and drained her tea to get rid of the worst of it.

“Alright, what do we have to do today?”

“Your induction into the Order of the Phoenix will be this evening, but before that we must take a trip to Diagon Alley to get you a wand, and then the Dark Lord has requested your presence in his audience chamber for afternoon tea.”

“Oh,” she replied faintly. “Do you have any advice on how to behave?”

“He wants to see what kind of person Dumbledore has shackled to me, so I suggest you be yourself, however as professional and courteous as possible. The Dark Lord has had a short temper since Potter escaped from him in June, and will kill on the spot if he detects any inkling of subterfuge. Dumbledore, however deserves - and will take - anything you can throw at him as long as you continue to do his bidding. You may argue any stipulations to your contract as you see fit, The Order is made mostly of volunteers and refugees so you won’t personally be forced to do anything you’d rather not.”

“Any unsavory characters I ought to watch out for?” she finished her peach and sat the large rust colored seed on the table before her.

“The fidelity clause in our marriage contract ought to keep the worst attentions off you, seeing as how it not only bars anyone and anything from touching you intimately save myself and medical professionals. Past that, your magic’s will kick in if someone is giving you any trouble - and you’ve demonstrated your ability to defend yourself already,” he rubbed at his finger absently. “The worst of the inner circle of Death Eaters will not be present due to their current imprisonment in the Wizarding Prison Azkaban. Freeing them has been the main topic of discussion for most of our meetings.”

“That’ll be in January aided by Dementors,” Peregrin supplied, sipping at her tea.

“You’re sure of that?” Severus asked looking intrigued.

“Yes, unless my being here changes the course of events. I shall try not to give anything away too early, unleashing the likes of the LeStrange’s on the world before their time would be something I’d lose sleep over I think.”

“In any case we should be off soon. Ollivanders can take quite some time to get through. Wands can be especially picky.”

 

As it turned out Ollivanders took all of about three and a half seconds, in which Severus crossed the threshold of the doorway and Peregrin… did not. She stood there confusedly, poking a tentative finger at the wards which rebuffed her gently.

“Excuse me, Mr. Ollivander,” she called out to the perplexed looking elderly gentleman who was coming around the counter to see what the trouble was. “What sorts of beings do these wards keep out?”

“Well, young Madam, purely non-human beings like house elves, trolls, goblins, Centaurs, and the like are not permitted by Wizarding Law to step foot in any Wand Making establishment. I personally have no quarrel with you or any of your kind, but rules are rules. Have a pleasant day.”

Peregrin was floored. Not human? She felt like she human, not that anybody really knew what that meant, acted human, looked human? Could Severus tell? By the look on his face he hadn’t.

He took her by the arm, though not as roughly as she’d been expecting, and pulled her towards Knockturn Alley.

“Why are we going there?”

“There’s a vaguely trustworthy expert in non-humans who happens to be in the area I think we ought to pay a visit to.”

“Who?” she asked, falling into step with him whilst dodging oncoming foot traffic.

“Remus Lupin,” he replied.

They continued down the dank, winding alley to a tavern called “The Old Hag” and up to the second story lodgings. Snape knocked on the fourth door and waited for a reply. Rough as a cob, sandy haired Remus Lupin welcomed them into his small flat. Furnishings in the place were shabby, but Peregrin reminded herself not to look in any way disgusted because she remembered that as a werewolf, Remus was a part of a minority that was underpaid and often hated by the magical world.

“Severus, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked after conjuring them chairs to sit in forming a triangle.

“I need a second opinion and you were the closest,” Severus replied shortly.

Peregrin stuck out her hand to shake, which Remus took without hesitation. “Remus Lupin,” he introduced himself.

“Peregrin,” she replied smiling genuinely.

They all sat and Remus opened his hands to gesture Severus to begin. 

“I assume this place is warded ceiling to floorboards?” he questioned. Remus nodded. “She can’t get into Ollivanders, performs advanced wandless magic without hesitation, and becomes… something else when she goes into REM sleep.”

Peregrin looked surprised at this. “Something else? What do you mean?”

“Black skin, white hair… It would be easier if you saw for yourself. Lupin, if you would.”

“Peregrin I’m going to cast a series of revealing charms on you, nothing intrusive or painful I assure you,” Remus told her calmly. He raised his wand and Peregrin closed her eyes, bracing for whatever might happen.

The sensation of having a cold egg cracked over her head spread out over her entire body and when she opened her eyes everything looked different. Focus was intense, she could see the cracks n the paint on the far wall, even in the gloomy light of the room. She could smell perfumes, scents she wouldn’t have noticed before, hear the softest footfalls of the child upstairs, feel the prickle of awareness that magic was in the room and had just been recently used on her. She blinked in confusion furrowing her brow. Her companions were silent, their breathing speaking of one in distress trying to stay calm.

Looking down at one hand she saw her skin was indeed shiny black like a lizards, though soft like a mammals. Her fingernails looked sharp and longer than they had been, and she raised them to her ears to feel what had happened to make them so attuned. She closed her fingers over their elongated tips, their fine points fluttering softly like butterflies wings until she stopped them between her fingers and it was suddenly like wearing earmuffs. The sounds of the world were blocked out partially, and when she let them go it was like taking them off again.

She looked over at Remus, who seemed mostly contemplative, and Severus who despite his calm exterior was trying not to look mortified.

“Some kind of elf maybe?” Remus suggested in the thickening silence.

“Surely not a house elf,” she relied, and it was like the clicking of a lock within her head and she was flooded with information she’d never had before. “No I’m not an elf but they like me a lot they – they ask for my blessings? Their children - they ask for blessings on their children for the three things… My things. My gifts. What are my gifts?” she asked to herself quietly, drumming her fingers on her lower lip.

Severus looked intrigued, Remus even more contemplative. “You bless the elves children, they ask and you bestow gifts, like a deity. Their culture before mankind is myth and legend mostly, but it is said they worshiped deities who walked among them. It’s possible you’ve been inhabited by the spirit of one of them.”

“But why? I was a teenage girl working two jobs about to go to college; I’m not related to anybody important in a broad sense of the term… I haven’t done much to deserve anything especially positive or negative, whatever this is.”

“I’ll look into it further to see if there are any resources on the subject but don’t get your hopes up. You might try asking the priestess of a large group of House Elves like the ones in mansions or at Hogwarts.”

Severus stayed silent looking almost betrayed.

“What do you think?” she asked him. “I had no idea about any of this, really. I promise I’m not hiding anything on purpose; thinking of House Elves brought on… memories? I guess? I’m honestly lost in all this.”

“We’ll have to go to the Ministry to register anyways, I suppose they’ll find out you’re nonhuman as soon as you’re scanned for disguises. This won’t become public knowledge unless the press gets a hold of it,” he mused aloud.

“Were you sick or something, is that why they were monitoring you in your sleep?” Remus asked, moving to make tea.

Peregrin shared a look with Severus for half a second. “Bless your heart son,” she replied in her thickest Southern American accent. “I know you’d like to assume otherwise, but we’re married.”

Remus turned around, stunned. “How old are you?” he asked.

Peregrin took a breath to answer and then stopped, more inherit knowledge coming to her aid. “I was eighteen when I left but… I want to say this form is over nine thousand years old at last count.”

“I could have sworn you were younger,” he replied unhelpfully.

Peregrin gave him a look which seemed to carry more with her new face.

“Whose idea was it?” he continued, pouring the hot water into three separate cups.

“Dumbledore’s,” Severus groused.

“How do I turn back?” Peregrin asked suddenly.

“Magic is an extension of personal willpower. Will your self back to looking human, and it shall be so.”

Concentrating solely on the idea of being human again, Peregrin breathed deeply and felt the tingle of magic coursing over her body until her hands turned their usual peachy tint.

“You have no recollection of being possessed?” Severus asked finally, taking one of the cups.

“No, you were there when I came to and that’s as far as I remember. There’s a block of time where I don’t remember anything like I went to sleep one night. I had come home from work, eaten dinner, done my usual routine and went to bed. Then I woke up in the middle of a crash landing site with you and Dumbledore poking around.”

“You crash landed?” Remus asked in surprise.

“In Northern Scotland, yes,” she replied waiting for Severus to take a sip of his tea before trading with him to finish it. Remus watched the exchange with thinly veiled amusement.

“How are you taking the news of no longer being human?” Remus asked seriously.

Peregrin contemplated this question for a moment. “It’s not so terrible I suppose. It hasn’t hurt me or anybody else just yet, and it doesn’t make me less of a person. Like you, you seem pretty genuinely a person even if you’re not quite a human being.”

There was a silence. “Did you tell her?” Remus asked Severus without any venom.

“Nobody told me. I didn’t even know we’d meet today-”

“But you knew you’d meet eventually,” Severus interjected. “You know what he is, and you don’t have to be told. You knew about magic after reportedly coming from a completely Muggle way of life, you knew about Hogwarts, about the ceiling in the Great Hall, the ghosts you greeted by name in passing,” his tone was becoming increasingly more accusatory.

“You’ll just have to accept that I have useful prior knowledge about this world,” she replied calmly. “I won’t tell everything I know about your world and the future, only when it’s important that I do so.”

“And why not?” he demanded.

“Because it could all change because of my presence. Every little detail I add or take away from the scenarios in which you make decisions have the ability to change the outcome. You weren’t married before I was injected into the timeline. We didn’t have this meeting, and –“ she stopped.“Dolores Jane Umbridge is planning a Dementor attack on Harry James Potter this summer shortly after he’s malnourished and abused by his current housemates.”

“How can you be sure?” Severus asked.

“I know just like I know about that day in nineteen seventy six in the tunnel leading to the Shrieking Shack, or the knot used to get into the tunnel on the Weeping Willow planted for the purpose of hiding that very tunnel. If we do nothing he will be attacked, be forced to use magic in front of his Muggle cousin, with the negative light shed on him by the government controlled media they will react as though he’s an adult and try to take his wand causing the need for extraction as swiftly as possible. If we do remove him from the situation and set a trap for the Dementors involved to interrogate them we could have incriminating evidence against Umbridge to keep her from taking the Defense position in the coming year.”

“She’s going to teach?” Severus and Lupin asked in unison.

“There are no other candidates after what happened with Barty Crouch Jr. this past year. The ministry in an attempt to control the school, will send her to Hogwarts to wreak havoc. We may not be able to stop her from getting there, but we can at least save Harry from all that trouble with the Ministry, being completely ignored by Dumbledore – by the way remind me to give him the what for on that subject – and general continued… negative things. I want him out of that house as soon as possible. Today even if we can swing it. I wouldn’t mind picking him up and letting Molly Weasley fatten him up a bit.”

Severus and Remus shared a look. “You don’t know why Dumbledore has him there,” Remus countered.

“Blood wards created by Lily Potter when she sacrificed her life to keep her son alive – wards that will keep the Dark Lord out until Harry turns seventeen and give Dumbledore ample reason to keep Harry there beyond all moral reason. If you knew what they do to him, what they don’t do to him, you’d be going in right now to get him. It’s not my place to say what’s happened to him no matter who his guardian is because it’s his choice to open up about it, but it is something to be alarmed over.”

“But Dumbeldore-“ Remus tried again.

“Is a self serving manipulative bastard with no regard for what his selfish actions could cost those lives he holds in his hands. He is wrong about this no matter how right he has been in the past about other things. Harry should NEVER have been put in that house.”

Severus very nearly smiled then. “She makes a fair point about Dumbledore, Remus.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shan't be writing anything smuttier than that one bit of chapter 2 until we get through some character development and other such chapters but don't worry, there'll be frivolities in the interim and some lovely fluff to look forward to.  
> Tell me what you think! I'm so glad to have such a nice review on my work, and the more you tell me the more I'll remember to write down new chapters and publish them! Also if you see any grammar mistakes don't hesitate to point them out, I'd be embarrassed to find one after rereading so much, and if you're willing I'd love a beta to help me. Thanks ya'll!


	5. Your Grace

Walking into Malfoy mansion was like walking into a throat clenching wall of miasma; it was easy to tell that Voldemort was in residence. They were greeted at the front door by Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa kissed her on both cheeks and took her by the arm to guide her to a powder room.

“You must be Peregrin,” Narcissa said politely. “I am Lady Narcissa Malfoy, the Madame of this household.”

Peregrin held out her hand, which Narcissa took in a dainty grasp. “Pleased to meet you,” she managed, feeling more like a hick than anything else in the presence of Narcissa’s jewels and finery. Remembering Nicki Minaj and all her teachings, she straightened up and made up her mind about how she’d act during this meeting, smiling all the while.

“You must be so confused with all these new surroundings. Severus tells us you were a muggle not too long ago.”

“It’s not nearly as confusing as one might imagine with resourcefulness and a pinch of motivation. Your home is lovely, by the way.”

“Have you ever been in anything so large or grand?” Narcissa asked somewhat tactlessly.

“I’ve been in the Biltmore House, it wasn’t very far from where I lived. Yours is certainly as mazelike I can see already, though I do like your choice of décor.”

Narcissa looked almost affronted to have not utterly impressed her. “I’ll have to introduce you to the gardens sometime then, they’re some of the finest in England. Now, I’m to address you about your meeting today with the Dark Lord. He will hold tea with you, alone in the library.”

“Wouldn’t it be seen as improper for a young lady to be allowed to be with a much older man with no escort?” she asked politely.

“Exceptions are made in the case of married women under fidelity clauses,” Narcissa supplied.

“By the way has that been passed around much? I’d appreciate it if you could put that into the mix to save me a few unwanted encounters. I’m unsure of the quality of the company kept here under more recent rule and I will not hesitate in unsavory situations to protect myself to the best of my ability.”

Narcissa nodded in understanding. “Your behavior must be at its best whilst addressing the Dark Lord. Do not attempt to lie, it will cause you more pain than you can imagine in the long run. You will not be allowed to antagonize him no matter how new at this you may be. He will dispose of you as quickly as a fly if he deems your worth unfitting for one of his inner circle.”

Peregrin nodded, non-pulsed.

“Severus has not allowed for your tea to be laced with anything, and as soon as it is poured you must sip, but not before the Dark Lord does. It would be a breach of conduct otherwise.”

The little room was a short hallway with mirrors and filled with luminous fairy lights, and they sat on cushioned chairs to talk.

“Answer anything he asks as concisely and truthfully as you can. Try not to make a fool of yourself doing it. We have to make an appearance now before the Inner Circle of Death Eaters now. Do you know what they stand for?”

“I have some notion, yes.”

Narcissa gave her a scrutinizing look for a moment. “I see. Well, in any case it would be best if you didn’t make him angry on purpose so do try and be as polite a young lady as you can be.”

Peregrin smiled “politely” then and nodded in acquiescence.

“Good girl.”

                                                                             

The Inner Circle that was not in Azkaban (a bunch of white men) stood in a smoking parlor off the side of the library, talking like old chums in their day attire, drinking fire whisky and elf made wine while smoking cigars. She saw with relief that Severus was not drinking heavily or smoking, which she abhorred even recreationally, and that he was speaking amicably with Lucius. He turned when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, and Narcissa led her over to greet her husband. Peregrin could feel eyes on her back as Severus bent to kiss her cheek, an oddly formal greeting, and Lucius did for her hand like some kind of public acceptance.

Almost as if something had been waiting for a still moment, a house elf popped into existence next to her foot. True to description, the floppy eared little elf bounced from foot to foot in excitement.

“Your Grace, your Grace! I is Filly, the chosen envoy of this house! We is honored to have you in our families house. We is humbled by your newest presence on earth and we give thanks with a gift in your honor, the first of many we hope!” Filly handed her a small box. Inside was a beautiful hand carved wooden amulet, with inscriptions and magic’s she understood at once like some inner lexicon that provided her with the knowledge. As soon as she had touched the elf’s hand she had switched forms, drawing gasps from onlookers.

Words flowed from her mouth in a language that felt as old as stone, like something she’d memorized to say on these occasions.

“Thou hast honored me, and so shall I honor thee and thy household. Three gifts I grant unto thee for thy homage. The first is the gift of good husbandry. Thy flock and harvest shall be plenty, their offspring strong, and their meat of good value. The second gift is cleanliness. Thy diseases will be short, and they shall strengthen thee, thy wounds shall not fester, nor shall any child die of sickness. The third is Magical strength. Thy magic shall increase tenfold, as shall thy ability; thy children shall be blessed with these things also for as long as thou keep with the old faith,” Peregrin told her. They bowed to each other, and the elf left leaving a defining silence.

“What did you say?” Severus asked her.

“I think I just blessed the elves of the house with gifts?” Peregrin replied, looking over at a bewildered Lucius Malfoy. “Also, they’re under my protection now, so if you beat them I will probably be prompted to strike you blow for blow and I’d really like to avoid any of those kinds of altercations.”

“Your presence has been requested in the library,” another elf told her, bowing deeply. She was compelled to bow back and did so automatically.

“Thank you, kin child,” she said in that same old language, which felt like the right thing to say.

“Do I change back?” she asked Severus hastily.

“It would be unwise at this point I believe,” he replied quietly.

She gave him a pleading look before squaring her shoulders and walking calmly to the large Oak doors which opened before her and closed behind as soon as she approached.

“That girl is something else,” Severus commented idly before resuming conversation with Lucius as though nothing had happened.

 

Within the library with its high vaulted ceiling and magnificent windowpanes depicting Merlin and a few other magical celebrities of old, Peregrin spotted herself – or rather the form she was in at that moment. The stained glass was lifelike, though somewhat archaic in design, and showcased the brilliance of every piece as the sunlight drifted lazily through. Footsteps sounded not a few paces off to her left and she narrowly avoided startling like a doe.

Looking over her shoulder without turning her body, unfamiliar with its eccentricities and balances as she was, she was met with an enormously underwhelming sight.

A man stood in between two bookshelves in luxurious black robes, black hair speckled with silver at the temples. He might have been handsome in his youth but now that was mostly given over to age, lines and spots marring his otherwise pale complexion. He had an odd look about his dark eyes, something almost sinister lurking in the shadows of them but other than that he seemed relatively harmless.

“Peregrin, my you look so much different than what I had expected,” he spoke in a high thin voice that would have sent chills up her spine if she wasn’t so confused.

“Who are you?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“Don’t you know?” he asked, cocking his head at her as though he were surveying possible prey.

“I am Lord Voldemort,” he told her patiently.

“Tom Marvolo Riddle,” she whispered almost automatically.

In a swift movement he was standing right next to her. He was much taller than she had any hope to be no matter what form she took. His hand clasped her jaw but it didn’t hurt, lifting her face to look into her eyes fully.  

“You know more than you have any right to, has anybody ever told you that?” he whispered.

“Yes. I am over nine thousand years old and a minor god besides, I think I’m entitled to a little bit of knowledge.”

Tom withdrew his hand. “You even have your own pane from the days of the creation of this mansion; do you remember the deeds you did for our kind that gave you such a high place of honor?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you come from? Your new vessel is so very young and impressionable I’m surprised at your selection.”

“It doesn’t speak from me,” Peregrin told him, “It’s just me.”

“Peregrin you look a child,” Tom told her, smiling.

“And you look ill but it’s polite not to comment on others appearances except to complement.”

“Prickly, I see Dumbledore’s reasoning for choosing Severus for you. Is he suitable for your tastes?”

Peregrin felt like that was a trap. “He will do.”

“Do you love him?” Tom asked, almost mockingly.

“I haven’t decided.”

“Decided? That’s very wise of you to realize. Tell me, what were you before you came here?”

“I was a – a Muggle I suppose by your vocabulary, though there were no true wizards to speak of like there are here to make the term necessary as a divider.”

He nodded, and motioned her over to the seating area, where he took a richly colored wing backed chair across from a larger white sofa. She sat after he did.

“It is not unusual for Thisiphone to choose a Muggle vessel from an accompanying timeline to fill with its magic’s. The elves were once a populous and richly magical people; it is no wonder that their god’s earthly vessels would be handpicked so tediously.” Tea was served.

Peregrin took a sip as soon as Tom took his, bare milliseconds after.

“I will not expect you to attend any meeting or gathering any more hostile in nature than the one we have had today. Thisiphone is a gentle creature, but put under the incorrect kinds of pressures it can become a veritable monster, and I would not have that happen in the wrong instances.”

Peregrin stared at him for a long moment, blinking once or twice in thought. “Have you been to the hospital recently?” was all she could say. Somehow the senses of her more powerful body were scanning his physical form and he seemed so… damaged. It was an odd kind of compassion but it was still there.

“Excuse me?” he asked, turning to cold fury in an instant.

“Your health is in poor shape have you –“she ducked as his cup flew at her and scurried off as the spells began to fly missing her by mere inches.

“GET OUT!” he screamed at her, throwing curses and hexes alike. As soon as she got to the door he hit her with the Avada Kedavra, which caught her dead center of her back, throwing her bodily out through the door, but as it had been wordless she didn’t realize what it was and continued to run past and out of the line of fire.

The robe she was wearing was melting off her as though he’d only hit a vase or a candle with it, and she made it into the washroom before they were completely ruined and almost see through. Sitting down on the floor she burst into tears, hyperventilating as quickly as if she were still running. After she’d calmed down an elf popped into the room bearing clothing.

“Complements of the house, your Grace,” the elf told her, bowing out and leaving behind the simple garments - white summery dress with sandals and a small sweater. She banished the melted cloth off her body and turned back into a human to put on the well fitted dress and shoes. As she shrugged into the sweater Severus knocked on the door and she answered as calmly as possible.

“I have been informed that we have worn out our welcome,” he told her quietly, holding out an arm for her to take. Leading her out, Narcissa kissed her on both cheeks, thanking her for her blessings on their house, and Lucius nodded politely at her and walked them to the door.

Once they were back on Hogwarts grounds Peregrin allowed herself to melt into a puddle on the ground, taking a seat cross legged in the grass without preamble. Severus stopped and turned to scrutinize her for a moment.

“He threw the killing curse at you and all you’ve suffered from is a severe clothing malfunction?”

“Well it was awfully frightening to have him blow up at me so suddenly,” she replied, scrubbing her face with her hands. Severus sighed.

“You may never get used to it; he is far more unstable this time than he ever was before he left. Come, we shall have an hour or two before it is time to go to our next meeting.”

Peregrin walked next to him silently as they went down into the dungeons to their rooms. As soon as the door was closed behind him she felt the air change suddenly and she was pressed against the wall with his hands on either side of her shoulders. He was hardly half a head taller than she was, she noticed then.

“You must tell me truthfully, Peregrin,” he said in a quiet serious tone. “Before today _did you know you aren’t human?”_

“No.” she kept her face as open as possible, wanting him to see her sincerity. “I’ve always thought it’s important to talk about those kinds of things before one has sex with someone else. Things like “I’m a virgin,” or “by the way I’m not human,” seem like important things to know prior to something like that, especially a wedding night.”

He huffed a breath and put his arms down. There was a quiet question posed in her head suddenly, and her eyes filled with tears again. Severus looked taken aback.

“What is it?” he asked, confused.

In a soft trembling tone, she asked “If I’m not h-human… does that mean you won’t want to touch me anymore?”

It took him a moment to reason out why she’d ask that. Because of the fidelity clause in their marriage contract she could neither have nor be had by any other. If he wasn’t the one to give her contact of any kind then she would get none. Who knew how long the war would last, or if he would even survive it? If he decided that because she wasn’t as human as he’d thought she was he wouldn’t make physical contact with her any more, in _any_ capacity – he might go mad himself if he was on those shoes, always forced into the company of someone repulsed by you. He could escape to his rooms or anywhere really from company that didn’t want him, but shackled as she was to him she didn’t have that luxury. He decided something then.

“How could I ever stop wanting to touch you?” Taking her face in his hands he thumbed away her tears as gently as he could, never having done so on any occasion before, and kissed her. She gasped and wound her arms around his neck, clutching desperately at his back as he pressed her into the wall more gently than that first occasion.

Though he was quite determined in his purpose his brain was still working. Severus threw out the idea that she might be desperate for affection from _anyone_ to be so willing in his arms, not to mention his own desperation. He firmly planted the idea that this real, fleshed out woman was not just ‘alright’ with having him touch her, she _wanted_ his touch, and possibly even _craved_ it on occasion. He would take pride in that, use it to his advantage – to his benefit – and allow himself to want her touch in return. He would not come home to a cold bed any longer, especially when there was a woman to warm it, and he would not disabuse her of the pleasure she was due from her duty, no matter how archaic the idea was.

Her soft hands were all over his naked back as he lay her down in the bed, and the one thought in his head he couldn’t stop mentally celebrating was “ _Dumbledore will be so angry_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kudos! You're all beautiful tropical fish I hope you know that!


	6. Blackmail to the Rescue

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was a decrepit, dark place, and Peregrin immediately felt her sinuses flare from the mildew. When Severus took her traveling cloak, she sneezed; when they saw a pink haired woman that could have only been Nymphadora Tonks cross through one door into another, she sneezed twice. As soon as they entered the kitchen where a few order members were already gathered, she sneezed four times and almost choked on a cough. Looking up she saw a man who looked like he'd crawled out of a hole recently, with recently trimmed black hair and sparkling lively eyes.

“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” she nearly sprinted around the table clearing the space in all of two strides, lifted him up by a hand from the table to his compete surprise, and changed immediately into her other form. Fear shone for half a second in his eyes and she decided to let her personality take over and charm him. “Hello, Mr. Black my name is Peregrin, local Elven deity of cleanliness – I want to clean your house so I don’t die of mildew allergies, but I need your permission.”

He looked both confused and intrigued and so he replied “Sure, do anything you like.”

She grinned, showing both rows of sharp white teeth, and rubbed her talon tipped hands together in a positively villainous fashion. Peregrin’s eyes glowed like fire and she took off her sandals to feel the hardwood floors on her bare feet. Saying a phrase that felt like a spell in the old tongue, she clapped her hands together that let loose something like a seismic wave of magic that spread around the room, through the open door and beyond. Her ghostly white hair and dress moved in a wind that wasn’t there, and soon the air was fresher, the walls a lighter shade, and the candles burning merrily in their polished shining sconces. Nothing looked the same as it had, as if ten years had been removed from the very paint on the walls, and Sirius looked almost as dumbfounded as Severus felt.

An elf with a face like a thunderstorm appeared before her in a dirty loincloth and screamed like a banshee. “ _WHO DARES DEFILE MY HOUSE?”_

He took one look at Peregrin and fell flat of his face on the floor, moaning and whimpering like a hurt dog. “My God, my God what have I done?” he wailed, pulling at his ears. “Thisiphone absolve me I pray!”

She raised her eyebrows and looked to Sirius. “Tell him it’ll be okay.”

“Me? He’s asking for some God, not me!”

“Sirius it’s trespasses against you he asks for absolution from, and I can neither bless him nor absolve him if he hasn’t obtained your forgiveness first.”

“I forgive you,” he said bewildered. Lupin looked on interestedly, munching on a sandwich next to a balding ginger man she assumed was Mr. Weasley. Severus was trying his best to look nonchalant.

Peregrin smiled as happily as if he’d told her Christmas had come early. Lifting Kreacher off the floor to his feet, she conjured a sheet of black cloth and handed it to him. The mantra from before flowed easily off her tongue despite being in human form, and her touch seemed to lift from his tiny shoulders a thousand tons. He bowed solemnly. “Thank you, your Grace,” he muttered, and popped away.

Turning to Sirius she smiled sheepishly. “In my defense I didn’t think it would be quite that dramatic but there you have it, blank slate and all that. Just don’t screw it up too badly.”

Sirius shook her hand enthusiastically. “Thank you so much, Peregrin,” he said, positively beaming at her. She smiled back, knowing things would turn sour at the slightest hint of who she was, but she savored it anyways. Molly Weasley, as Sirius introduced her, was just as Peregrin imagined her to be, and was embraced like family almost immediately. She wondered what they would do when they found out, and when she glanced back at Severus she saw the same question in his posture. Lupin beckoned him to sit, and he refused with a curt nod and stalked off out the door to some other part of the house. Peregrin smiled and chatted with Mrs. Weasley amicably, sitting across from Lupin who was just now finishing his sandwich.

“It looks like you’re really coming into your own compared to earlier today. Where’d you learn to do that?” he asked, swallowing a mouthful.

“I have the idea after talking with some – er – knowledgeable people on the subject that there’s a reincarnation cycle, and I think the knowledge is all passed down as muscle memory so every time I remember that I can do something,” she motioned vaguely in the direction of the walls.

“That’s incredible! Does that mean you know about the histories of the elves then as well?” The scholar in Lupin was showing, making him seem more boyish than before and Peregrin grinned at it.

“Yeah probably, though nothing’s really come up to trigger it yet. I’m sure it’ll surface soon along with everything else.”

She noticed Mrs. Weasley reasoning out something to her left. She took a letter out of the pocket of her apron and scanned it until her eyebrows rose and she looked up at Peregrin, who was looking her dead in the eye.

“When are you planning on telling them?” Lupin asked, noticing as well.

“I figure it ought to come out organically. By the looks of things it may not _all_ go to shit as soon as it’s out but I’m sure there’ll be backlash. I’ll enjoy myself while I can I think.”

“Headmaster Dumbledore told a few of us you were a Muggle before you arrived here. It must be so different having magic now,” Arthur Weasley said, leaning forward to listen. Peregrin grinned knowingly.

“Yes, I was. It is different, but in the best kind of way. I’d never imagined that I would get to be a part of anything as spectacular as real, working magic. I’ve learned a few things since I’ve been here and I can’t wait to figure out more.”

“Minerva boasted that you have an education, some sort of “degree”? Is it your temperature that’s different?” Sirius asked.

Peregrin tried not to laugh. “No, no, it’s not in that sense of the word. It’s more like a degree of my education, or a degree of understanding. I have one of the lower forms of a Degree; they go from an Associates Degree with two years of schooling, to a Doctorates Degree with eight.”

“But wouldn’t you have had to complete your general schooling first?” Arthur asked. “You can’t be that old.”

“I’m eighteen,” she told him with a grin.

“So you know a lot about the Muggle world? Like eclecitricity.”

“It’s pronounced like election. E-lec-tricity. It’s in lots of things like static from blankets when the air is dry and lightning that happens in storms. Electricity flows through your body too, it’s what makes your heart chambers beat in the correct order and what passes through your brain to make your thoughts and actions happen.”

Arthur's mouth dropped open. “I thought it was magic!”

“I can feel the electricity separate from the magic in your body, it most certainly exists in there.”

Severus walked back in the room suddenly, turning every head but Sirius’ who steadfastly ignored him.

“I’m sure this conversation is quite scintillating, however the Headmaster requires Peregrin’s presence.”

She stood, fussing over her skirt before following him out, flashing a reassuring smile over her shoulder. Severus led her up to one of the sitting rooms where Dumbledore was holding court with Professor McGonagall and a stout barrel-chested man who must have been Kingsley Shacklebolt.

“Peregrin, we’ve been informed of you recent developments. Your handiwork is quite detailed and appreciated: this house is now livable for displaced Order Members instead of a last resort for housing. Thisiphone has chosen you for a purpose and you must choose whether or not to take the path it shows you.”

Peregrin nodded along waiting for the inevitable.

“And I would like to introduce you to the portion of my second in commands who are present today. Minerva, Kingsley, this is Peregrin, our most recent addition to the Order, and Severus’ new wife.”

Before Minerva could get up in hackles, Peregrin replied “’New wife’? What is the old one locked up in his basement? I mean it would explain the screams and moans but I thought that was just some ghoul he hadn’t kicked out yet.”

Kingsley had to smile at that, but Dumbledore just frowned.

“You made her do it didn’t you?” Professor McGonagall growled at Dumbledore.

“Now Minerva-“

“You manipulative old codger, there could have been other arrangements made besides forcing her onto poor Severus. He has enough on his plate!”

Severus looked positively fond of Professor McGonagall just then. “Minerva I assure you she is no burden. The Dark Lord doesn’t need someone as powerful her in his arsenal, and if we can play our cards right he won’t want to. She has proven to be quite resistant to certain Unforgivable Curses, not unlike one Mr. Potter. He would never want a servant he couldn’t dispose of when the time came.”

Dumbledore nodded at this. “Yes, use that to your advantage. Thisiphone would never allow it’s vessel to die before it could leave for a new one, remind him of that.”

“Not to mention it’s inherit benevolence and propensity for sticking up for House Elves,” Severus added, and nodded his head in acquiescence.

“Do you have any concerns to bring to the table after your encounters today, Peregrin?” Dumbledore asked her politely.

“Yes.” She took a piece of parchment Severus’ hadn’t seen her carrying out of a pocket in her dress and handed it to Dumbledore.

As he read it over his bushy white eyebrows rose. “This is a very daring proposal. You have made your argument very clear, you’re sure you can execute this plan without being noticed?”

“Of course, house elves are often dismissed within warding parameters as less than persons who don’t need to be warded against. With my Elven magic it would be simple to apparate into the house and have him out with his possessions and moved in here within, say, an hour? I would need minimal assistance from someone he trusts implicitly or close enough to it to persuade him to come with me.”

Dumbledore handed the parchment to Professor McGonagall and Kingsley in turn, and they whispered about it for a moment.

“Done,” Minerva sounded. “We will be on standby in case anything goes awry, and I will personally obtain a copy of the secret kept location for you to use.”

Peregrin smiled and dipped her head. “Thank you. I will not fail.”

They walked down the hallway and back into the kitchen. Severus knew who she meant to retrieve and he knew he would have to simply watch her work. When they crossed the threshold she could feel the difference in the atmosphere of the room. They knew now who she was and why Severus had come with her. Lupin, who already knew, seemed no different than before, however apologetic for his friends attitude. Sirius, of course, wasn’t even acknowledging her presence in the room. Molly and Arthur were mostly curious and the other members that had shown up who’d yet to introduce themselves looked mistrustful.

“Hey Remus can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked with a smile to let him know it wasn’t anything serious.

Severus moved to follow her out the door as well, but she put a hand on his chest and pushed lightly to let him know to stay. Out in the hall Remus looked quite interested in what she had in store for him.

“Remember our conversation from earlier?” she asked, tugging him along by the arm towards the door.

“About Harry?”

“Yes. I’ve just had my proposal accepted and we’ll be going to get him as soon as Professor McGonagall comes by with the house address so he can enter safely. You’ll need to go with him and help him pack. Talk to him – let him know he’s safe and that we’re going to help him. He has to agree to come with you first, though, I won’t kidnap him like a burglar.”

Professor McGonagall, bless her, was hardly a moment more in retrieving for her a scrap of Parchment with the address for Number 12 written on it.

“God speed, my dear,” Professor McGonagall whispered into her ear, hugging her gently around the shoulders. She handed the younger woman around the shoulders and nodded to Remus before departing. Peregrin smiled at Remus and held out a hand for him to take. He did so, and she made them both invisible, though visible to each other. She concentrated as harshly as possible on Number Four Privet Drive, Surrey, before snapping her fingers to disapparate.

 

Harry sat on his bed trying to read his Defense book for the next year. It was slow going, as the author was about as interesting a writer as Dudley was a conversationalist, but still he soldiered on. When the lights on the street outside flickered, he hardly noticed so deep in concentration was he.

There was a knock on the door downstairs, unusual at this hour in the summer, and so he got his wand out from beneath his pillow and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans before creeping as quietly across his bedroom floor as possible. He’d memorized all the places that creaked and groaned in his time there, and made it to the door soundlessly. He heard Dudley go by to have a look and waited until he’d gotten down the stairs to open the food flap that’d been installed on his door to listen in on who’d come.

“Hello, we’re here with the local gardeners guild about your lovely flower garden,” said an unfamiliar, American sounding female voice.

“Oh! Come in, come in!” Aunt Petunia’s voice filtered up from below in her best “company” voice.

As soon as the door shut behind them there was a series of bangs and thumps and Harry could feel his hackles raise. Someone was in the house, and they had magic. He saw Remus Lupin walk up to the first landing of the steps, wand raised with _Lumos_ lighting his path.

“Harry is that you?” he asked, taking another step.

“Say something only Remus Lupin would know!” Harry demanded, pointing the tip of his wand through the slot, glasses askew.

“You saved Sirius with Hermione on the back of Buckbeak the Hippogriff in your third year. He told me about it and we decided to keep it a secret between us to tell if we needed a secret like this. Harry we’ve come to take you to the Orders house with Ron and Hermione.”

Harry studied him for a moment. In a flash he had the door open and stumbled down the stairs to embrace Lupin heartily.

“I never thought you’d come!” Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. “Was there anybody else? I heard a woman.”

“Yes, she’s wandered off for the moment. We need to get you packed up. You’re staying at the Order house until you go to Hogwarts.”

They went to pack up his room as quickly as they could manage. Hedwig was hooting at him from her cage, and when Lupin came in to help him with a spot of magic, she hooted a little louder. He made sure to get everything out of his drawers and made sure all his books were in order before grabbing his Firebolt and announcing he was ready to go.

After they came down the stairs he saw that the door to the cupboard under the stairs was open and the light on inside. He walked over to find a girl inside sitting on his childhood bed, eyes on the floor, seemingly lost in thought. He’d often found Hermione in this state and thought it best not o disturb her until she came out of it. She was fit, and couldn’t be much older than Harry by the look of her face. Brown hair and hazel eyes with a shapely face and long legs made up most of what he could see with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Her eyed flicked up to him suddenly and she blinked as if coming out of a trance. A slow smile formed on her face and she hopped up to greet him. “Hello, you must be Harry. My name is Peregrin, it’s so good to finally meet you.”

She pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket and handed it to him.

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve Grimmauld Place, London._

“The order of the what?” he asked in confusion. She smiled and took his and Lupins hands.

“That’s where we’re going. Hold on tightly to my wrist if you will it’s awfully hard to snap if you’ve got my fingers.”

She made sure they had all their things in order, asking him if he thought he’d gotten everything before snapping her fingers like an elf. They appeared in what looked like a quite old family home, richly decorated with Wizarding paintings and wall sconces like Hogwarts had. A house elf with more wrinkles than Harry had ever seen on one popped into the room much as Peregrin had apparated them. It had a large snout like nose and trimmed white hairs growing from it’s large, bat like ears, and wore a black toga with some house sigil embroidered on the front.

“I will be taking your bags to your room, sir,” it announced in a deep voice like a bullfrogs.

“My, Peregrin, you’ve really worked wonders on that one. Just his morning he was wandering around in a loincloth muttering to himself!”

“What did you do?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“I’ll explain it in detail later if you remember to ask, right now we have higher priorities to tend to, like for instance your dinner and debriefing.”

She led them into the kitchen where a large table was set out with a whole collection of people Harry had never met before and at the end – “Sirius!”

 

Peregrin watched as Harry embraced his godfather, smiling to herself, happy that he’d finally gotten out of that hell hole.

“By the way,” Lupin asked from beside her. “How did you get Dumbledore to allow you to do this?”

“I blackmailed him with self revealing ink,” she replied quietly, making an attempt at slipping out the door before Harry noticed she was gone, but he turned just in time to see her.

To her utter astonishment he came right up and hugged her around the neck. “Thank you,” he whispered into her ear and grinned as he went back to talk with Sirius, and Peregrin was dazed as she left for the front door.


	7. Now that I have your attention

Hogwarts, as it turned out, was just as magnificent the second and third times one visited. Over the course of the summer Peregrin had been sequestered by Madame Pince for seminars on how to do her job, hands on experience with book refurbishing, and an introduction to the library and it’s makeup. Headmaster Dumbledore sometimes asked her for tea, and Professor McGonagall answered some of her more philosophical questions about magic and their cultures ideas about the universe.

Severus was an intermittent presence. He could be gone for a week at a time then return only to stand in the kitchen of their flat quietly by himself at three in the morning sipping on a mug of coffee. She might go to sleep with his back against hers and wake only to find rumpled sheets and “breakfast soup” as she liked to call the soupy breakfast casserole-like dish that he sometimes left on the stove. Lupin would come by and visit her on occasion, asking intrigued questions about her transformations and what she’d learned about Elven customs. She’d blessed three more households thus far, and the entirety of Hogwarts, which made a few of the sweet little elves in service there burst into tears of gratitude. She had thanked them roundly after realizing that they had been the ones keeping her in clothes while she was at Hogwarts that first week, and they continued to praise her, though she got the creeping feeling that she didn’t deserve it.

She had tried so hard to be amicable with Sirius Black but he would have none of it. Finally, one evening he had the misfortune to piss her off.

“Hey Snivellus-“ was all it took.

There is a point in the stressed and tired mind of a person, when they’ve reached a breaking point in their day that if one more shitty thing were to happen, it would be violent and messy and not go over as well as it might have three bad things ago, or even one.

The neighbor had died of carbon monoxide poisoning while they were gone, which easily could have killed both Peregrin and Severus, Dumbledore was being purposefully obtuse with her, and Madame Pince had been in a bad mood which had really set Peregrin on edge; and now, this.

She punched him so hard in the eye he fell back on the floor.

The room was silent, waiting, watching. Peregrin got down on her haunches, calm as a summer day.

“Now that I have your attention,” she said serenely, “there is an issue I need to address with you. The purpose of bringing Harry here, of cleaning and refurbishing your home with my magic, was to help him. It’s obvious you haven’t taken time out of feeling sorry for yourself to notice the fourteen year old boy in residence who needs you.”

“I’ve talked to-“ Sirius sputtered, but Peregrin cut him off.

“You’ve made nice with him, pretended he was your dead friend, and palled around with him. That is not the talking he needs. You need to have a conversation with him, about life, about how he feels. No matter who everyone wants him to be, or thinks he is, never forget: all of this stress, seeing someone die for the first time in memory, and having the man who killed his parents come back to life trying to kill him is happening to a fourteen year old boy.” Sirius sat up, face full of dawning comprehension.

“He’s not a grown man, he’s a little kid, scared and alone. I suggest you get your shit together and act like an adult, like his Godfather, because that’s who he needs right now. You have a chance to have a family again, to be happy, and you had better get on the ball, because every second you waste, every second you stand by without speaking up, you don’t get back.”

She helped stand him up, and conjured an ice pack.

“Oh, and if you say that name again, I’ll beat the shit out of you. That was a warning shot, and there won’t be a talk about your moral obligations afterwards.”

 

The time between making it to their flat was almost unbearable, because as soon as the wards went up Severus was on her faster than she could react, gasping into his devouring kiss. His hands were everywhere, on her breasts, her bum, her back, threading through her short brown hair, and Peregrin’s breath came heavy.

She undid the buttons on the front of his robes, leaving a hot trail of open mouthed kisses on his throat, smoothing fingers over his nipples through his crisp white shirt, making him gasp. He had her robes open and bra off as easily as if they were made of smoke, palming a pink tipped breast while he drug his teeth up her neck. She shuddered and opened his trousers, letting them drop to the floor so she could palm his hardening cock through the thin material of his pants.

There was no way they could make it to the bed, so they stumbled out shoes and socks to land on the sofa, Peregrin’s hands smoothing over the sinewy muscles of his back. Their pants came off posthaste, and when his cock finally traced up the wet seam between her thighs she cried out, arching into his touch.  

He had his hands on her hips, control slipping as she writhed for his touch, making his favorite sounds. Her breathy sighs and moans, those tiny sounds she couldn’t help but make when she wanted him so desperately drove him to distraction. Her nails were poised to scratch on his back, and he finally positioned himself and sunk into her. It felt magnificent, the wet pulsing heat surrounding him like a glove, tightening almost painfully good when she got impatient for him to thrust again.

As they fucked more often, he found how she wanted to be treated in bed leaned towards the rougher side of things, so he didn’t have to hold back as much as he had in the beginning. Her nails digging in his back were a sign to let up a bit, and her teeth in his shoulder were indicative of her impending orgasm, which often lasted long enough to bring him up to speed.

He thrust languidly just to rile her up, teasing to give rise to her passion, which worked almost every time. Her heels dug into his arse as she thrust up to meet him, moaning when he finally thrust hard enough to shift her up the sofa. His head was holding him up above her shoulder, crouched over her splendid body as he was, and he could hear her whispered curses.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she would breathe every time he hit the right angle, and he thrust hard and long, making sure to start out slower for a build effect that drove her higher and higher beneath him. The heat from exertion was enough to draw sweat, and beads trickled down between her breasts as she writhed and bucked, sucking on his neck like only a vampire could dream of.

In a move he found often earned him a scream in the end, he got her to turn over beneath him so he could fuck her properly, and she obliged him eagerly, arching her smooth beautiful back while he thrust almost violently into her, making her moans come louder and stronger every time he hit that one spot inside her she loved so much. Finally they were moving in tandem, grunting and fucking like animals until he got the scream with that sweet pitch he earned while she shuddered and shook, the walls of her cunt squeezing and pulsing to bring him over the edge as well with a shout.

They collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap, breathing the cool air of the room deeply

He had once fallen asleep on top of her like that, and later asked if she had felt claustrophobic or short of breath. To his surprise, she had replied: “You’re about ninety pounds, I don’t mind it at all. I prefer the weight, actually, it’s comforting.” He didn’t deny her of those comforts then, pulling the throw blanket off the back of the sofa to cover them in the cooling air. She wallowed into the sofa cushions, sighing in contentment as she drifted off to sleep.

He watched her for a while, savoring the feel of her soft youthful skin pressed against him, and felt something like happiness in him. Triumph, certainly, he’d rarely gotten a girl to sleep with him without coin involved, and one had never stayed to sleep, or even for something like their odd version of cuddling. Peregrin’s breath had evened out and her torso expanded and deflated in a comforting rhythm enough to lull him into a doze. He hadn’t truly gone to sleep, waiting watching as he always did when she slept in the light of day. REM came as it almost always did, shortly after they had sex, or a little slower when she let a nap go on longer than planned. Her skin turned black, blacker than any African he’d ever seen, and her ears came to fine points. Her facial bone structure was altered slightly, becoming more regal and refined. Her nose was longer and straighter, her hair turned bone white.

He had once wondered who the bestiality belonged to. Reason had led him to believe it was hers, or at least Thisiphone’s, because the God being was surely of a higher order than mere humans. It had amused him for a time when she’d come across a text referring to the human companions Thisiphone’s vessels often kept with them as concubines or servants, rarely as spouses. He was not under the impression that all husbands and wives must love their spouses, as his own parents had mostly failed at doing even that basic thing, but he wasn’t sure what he felt for Peregrin, nor of how she felt about him.

He’d noticed her stares on occasion, sometimes like a predator watching possible prey, sometimes with what others described as cows eyes. He’d caught her scrutinizing him playfully, and she’d met his gaze with an open face, bathing him in attention. Severus felt like a man starved who was being given eternal access to water sweeter than any man had a right to taste, and he didn’t disillusion himself into thinking it would last forever. He might not live, she might come to despise him, any number of things could befall them, so he took advantage of every moment.

There was a greed he felt for keeping her to himself, sometimes not wanting to let even Remus, who held more trust from him than most people had a snowflakes chance in a volcano of having, to see her and steal her smiles. He stilled himself in those moments and remembered he had nothing to worry about. Probably. Maybe. He had a minor glimmer of hope anyways.

Peregrin shifted back into human form again, yawning, her pretty mouth widening.

When her hazel eyes opened, watching him with a laziness that was almost infuriating, she grinned at him and pecked his lips.

“You mentioned you used to raise rabbits. What kinds?” he asked.

She sighed, yawning once more. “I had some mutts, but my favorites were my red New Zealand’s. They were so beautiful, and my doe liked to lick me on the cheek when I was holding her. I had a couple of Chinchilla bucks I didn’t like much, and a Californian doe that I fell in love with who died a year after I got her. I cried like a baby.”

“What did you get out of it?” Severus questioned, trying not to sound condescending.

“I felt responsible and in control, mainly,” she mused, “but I think it was really fulfilling work to raise my own food like that. I knew where they came from, what they ate, that they weren’t sitting in shit all day, that they had companionship, and care was taken to ensure their end was met cleanly and humanely. Meat from the store is always so mysterious and removed. It was also a responsibility I could handle, and something I was actually good at for once.”

“Would you raise them again if you got the chance?”

She looked thoughtful. “Yeah. If things were in order and I knew I could provide for them, I’d have a whole barn full in no time at all.”

He chuckled and rolled off of her to sit on the edge of the sofa.

“Thank you for asking about that,” she told him between yawns, and went back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something to tide you over until I can get my shit together. Nothing like smut for that, eh? Sorry for the wait, I'll try and get chapters in faster, the holidays were crazy for me so now that that's over it ought to be smoother sailing (I hope). Tell me what you think! Comments, kudos, questions, critique, it's all welcome, I'm just glad to have engaged readers!


	8. Hate Bite, Love Bite

Severus Snape woke up instantly at the sound of a thump on the other side of the bed. It was dark in the small apartment, but some light filtering in from the street below showed the crisp blue linens to be soiled thoroughly by a pool of what smelled like blood, a pool that had crept beneath him and soiled his night clothes, smearing on his jaw. Peregrin was in the floor when he rushed over, breathing heavily and holding her lower abdomen, soaked from the waist down in blood with a cooling pile of vomit not far off. With little hesitation he vanished the mess, put on a pair of trousers lying on a chair, and gathered her up in his arms, wrapped in a bath robe to protect her modesty.

Their floo to St. Mungo’s was uneventful, and she burrowed her head in his neck as he raced barefoot across the foyer leaving bloody footprints in his wake. Her labored breathing and the blood spreading through the fabric of her bathrobe were his whole world for what seemed like eternity, until several Mediwitches and a healer finally saw to her. She was taken out of his arms, but one of her hands refused to let go of his, and so they admitted him into the examination room, where he dutifully reported an estimate of the amount of blood she’d already lost, and did the only thing he could do just then, hold his wife’s hand.

After several hyper concentrated blood replenishing droughts, two examinations and a full body scan later, it was determined that the bleeding and excessive pains were caused by her menses. Usual pain and bleeding were normal, however her uterus had been in overdrive, making more than twice the usual amount of extra uterine wall and therefore causing more than twice the usual pain. Add that in with her preexisting nerve condition and recent stress, and it was a sure mix for disaster. They’d cleaned her, dressed her in one of those shapeless garments hospitals were so fond of, and left him still wide awake and covered in his wife’s blood.

Peregrin had been put to sleep to allow her body to produce the blood she needed to be functional when conscious, and her brow was creased under a sweaty, unhealthily pale forehead. He took one of the cool cloths the Mediwitches had left him and smoothed it over her forehead until her brow relaxed. He got not one wink of sleep, sitting in a chair vigilant through the night. She only went through REM sleep once, the change not easing any of her symptoms, and then she was back to being human again. He watched as the lights from the magically false window changed from the glow of night to the light of day. Peregrin stirred at the usual time, hazel eyes opening to the unfamiliar surroundings with confusion. When she found Severus sitting with blood drying on his person she looked even more concerned than he’d seen her thus far.

“Are you alright? What happened?” she asked in a croaky, sleepy voice.

 

Snape strode through the din of people at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place to find Albus Dumbledore standing with Harry Potter. Several people lurched back from him or gasped as he passed, but he was so focused on his destination he hardly noticed. Dumbedore turned to see who was gaining on him so quickly, and almost dropped his drink when he saw the state Snape was in. White shirt covered in blood, and a smear on his jaw. He handed a piece of parchment over to the older man as calmly as if it were another school day. Dumbledore read it, icy blue eyes scanning the words hastily scribbled on it.

“Is Peregrin alright? Is that her blood?” Potter asked urgently.

“Severus please answer Harry’s question,” Dumbledore prompted.

“Yes and yes. Peregrin is in the hospital recovering from an unrelated incident and sends her warmest regards for your celebration. May I remind you Mr. Potter, Peregrin is _quite_ capable of taking care of herself. In fact, she’s just helped the order tremendously, but I must return and make sure she hasn’t killed him accidentally, his jugular vein is between her teeth after all,” and with that sweet bit of agony Snape departed once more. The scene was just as he’d left it not five minutes before. Peregrin had this man spilling his whole life’s story in an attempt to keep himself alive, as her only word to him before putting him in this position was “ _Talk_.”

He’d divulged his employer, their scheme, the amount down to the sickle he’d been paid in advance for this mission, everyone he’d killed prior to his attempt on her life, his family, his childhood, what he’d had for breakfast. There were a few Mediwitches and Healers in the room witnessing and on standby for medical attention when she released him. Her mouth suctioned on his neck like a leech was the only thing stemming the flow of blood, and he had exclaimed more than once how her teeth were on his jugular vein, squeezing lightly. It had been a nearly religious experience to watch her work, making him talk without needing any assistance, drawing the words from him in the most intimate way possible.

It was only when Severus reported her message delivered that she let him go and shoved with one hand to launch him through the door of her rooms past all the staff waiting for him.

“Restrain this man for questioning by the Auror Department. I hope you will excuse my behavior, I did not mean for you to have to be witness but I suppose it all works out for the best.”

There had been madness in her eyes, Snape couldn’t forget the instant before Peregrin lunged at the would-be assassin, craving to bite into him like none other. Snape had never been more proud of her, her self control and patience was magnificent. Of course now that the altercation was over it was back to helping the original issue she’d come in for.

“You could have gotten a blood borne illness from him,” he muttered by way of acknowledging his acceptance of what had happened.

“I can sense those kinds of things, even in my current state,” she yawned, letting a Mediwitch sponge her clean again. After gargling and spitting, she was ready to continue treatment, satisfied that no more would be assassins would waste her time that day.

What this meant for the Order, was that the same person who hired to kill three other Order members had hired to kill Peregrin under a single pseudonym. They didn’t know about her abilities or her inhumanity, but they did know she was connected to the Orders activities despite her almost complete lack of participation in any Order plan. Except for the preliminary stages, where she would often suggest solutions to logistics issues, and keep up with time frames for specific issues, Peregrin was hardly a key member. However she was married to one, and that was news that never left the Orders ring or the Ministry, which meant that the person involved had access to confidential information within it’s walls. There was quite a large pool of people to look at, and the process of weeding them out was slow going.

Severus smoothed her fringe of bangs out of her face. She’d been trimming them somewhat inexpertly in an effort to keep them out of her eyes but they’d gotten out of hand quickly. Her skin was still baby soft, and her eyes fluttered closed when he drew the ball of his thumb over her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” she whispered.

“You’re not to blame,” he told her, “I was more worried you’d die than anything.”

She smiled tiredly at him, peeking out from her lashes. “I appreciate it. Did they never let you get cleaned up?”

“I wasn’t paying it much attention,” he replied, shrugging indifferently.

Peregrin sighed, and succumbed to sleep once more, dozing while Severus kept watch.

 

St. Mungo’s released Peregrin the following morning on bed rest for a few days until the menstrual cycle had taken its course and she could begin her regimen of potions and, in the words of a stern Mediwitch, “No strenuous physical activities” like, for instance, attempting to decapitate an armed assailant with ones bare teeth.

That didn’t stop Peregrin from pushing Severus into the shower and washing her bloody mess off him, which he had stubbornly refused to leave her side long enough to change out of. He helped towel her off when she couldn’t bend over far enough to get her legs, and led her to bed where he dressed her in those silly pyjamas she insisted were the only thing she could sleep in, and tucked her in dutifully. He slipped in next to her, drawing her in close to put her head on his shoulder beneath his chin.

The following day Severus noted Peregrin’s unusual attitude, but elected not to inquire. She had a case of the doldrums as far as he could measure, listlessly tossing and turning in the bed, and every time he came in the room to check on her she buried her face in the pillow. Neither deterred nor disturbed by this he continued as he had the day before, supplying meals and water, dutifully checking her temperature and asking if she needed anything.

Finally around dinner time she’d thought over whatever it was she was going over in her head and when he asked if she needed anything, she scooted over to the middle of the bed to allow him space to sit down next to her. He sat quietly and watched her climb over into his lap. She put a knee on either side of his hips, leaning her full torso against his with her messy head buried in the crook of his neck. He put his arms around her back comfortably, relaxing against the pillows and headboard. They breathed for a long minute, content with simple intimate contact.

“Thank you for doing all of this,” she muttered, kissing his neck lightly. “I really appreciate it, I know you’re busy.”

“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“You don’t have to - I mean it, if you don’t feel like you have to do something like this you’re not obligated to just because we’re married. I know this isn’t- I mean I know you don’t-”

For once Severus caught on to her meaning, combined with the sudden flush of heat from her face in his neck and brought her up to look her in the eye.

“What do you mean you “know”?” he intoned, coking his head. Her eyebrows pulled together for half a second in confusion. “You haven’t asked, how can you know definitively?”

“I guess I just assumed.” The reddening of her face deepened and she averted her eyes. When he drew breath again to speak, every muscle of hers making contact with his body tensed like wire, eyes closing. His hand came up to her cheek and drew her chin back to face him.

“Relax, Peregrin,” he massaged one of her thighs, the muscles feeling like iron under his fingers.

“Do you think I would deny you?” she shook her head. “Or is it that you think you’ll be denied?”

She bit her lip, inflaming him, and it was then he noticed she was close to tears. He leaned forward, and kissed her lightly, repeatedly until she began to respond, their lips brushing in a slow dance. He tasted the salt of her tears and persisted until she was gasping into his mouth, wet tongues sliding against each other in parody of his fingers sliding through her silky soft hair. Just before they reached a fever pitch he gently separated them for air, brushing aside her bangs to run his thumb over her forehead.  He took in the sight of her: swollen lips, flushed face, sparkling eyes dilated, open expression.

“I’m not saying no,” he told her. “I don’t know if I can say yes yet, it’s – it’s not something I can do easily, and I hope you will have patience with me.”

Peregrin seemed to sober for a moment, looking at him very seriously, something she so rarely did, and replied “I can wait. I’ve already come to a decision, and I can wait for you to come to one in your own time.”

He nodded and kissed her again, falling right back into their previous passion, mouths connecting quickly in an effort to make up for lost time. He had her on her back and out of her pyjamas easily, leaving her knickers, and she likewise had him out of his shirt, fisting his hair when he connected his hips with hers, grinding to elicit one of his favorite moans. She squirmed and arched under his touch, and he reveled in the heat of it, teasing a nipple casually while sliding his hand down in to her knickers.

She pressed herself into him riding his hand greedily, grabbing for his trouser fastenings when he stopped her, and put both of her wrists in one hand above her head on the pillows. He growled, moving his fingers just so to make her cry out while he made a love bite on her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. He massaged her clit with building pace suitable to the timing of her sweet cries and the urgency of her writhing, listening intently as her moans reached the specific pitch and timing that meant the end was imminent, and set into a frenzy of motion, sucking on her breast like there was no better taste, and rubbed her until he thought she might be raw, climaxing all by himself just from watching while he felt his wife tip over the edge of bliss, her body arching into his violently, passing out from his efforts and relaxing in a heap of limbs. He laid his head down on her shoulder, sticky in some of the best places, and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this old "home remedies" book and it mentions that sex with orgasms help to relieve cramps and soreness from period issues? Has been tested to reveal some truth. Something like the medical crisis we opened up this chapter with has actually happened to me, let me tell you 12 days of pain scale 8-10 period is not a fun time. Yay for birth control! Comment and kudos! I have a hectic life occasionally and forget to write down my ideas for the rest of the story, so remind me if you think it's been to long! Constructive criticism and error correction is always welcome! Thank you so much for reading!


	9. The Pink Menace

The first day of school proved to be more eventful than Peregrin had expected. Dolores showed up early thinking she’d surprise the rest of the staff and find them doing something illegal, which absurd as it was seemed to be her actual mission. Dumbledore had been in the middle of rigorous paperwork, McGonagall drinking tea, Flitwick was going over his book order of a class set of advanced Charms manuals, and the rest of the staff were doing similarly mundane tasks. She approached Peregrin next to last before Filch.

“Hello Mrs. Snape,” Umbridge began. Peregrin looked up from her desk in the Librarians office suite.

“Hello Professor Umbridge, have a seat,” Peregrin replied amicably, motioning to the chair on the other side of her desk.

“Oh no, I don’t intend to be here for long,” Umbridge approached the desk, almost leaning over it to look Peregrin directly in the eye. “Don’t think that just because you’re married to one of Dumbledore’s little puppets that you have to be one too. I could use a partner in the… difficulties to come.”

Peregrin watched her for a long moment. “No, thank you.”

“There will be more opportunities to join me,” Umbridge’s claws clenched into fists for half a second. “I’m sure by the end of this school year you’ll see that my way is best.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night,” Peregrin went back to her work, an obvious dismissal from her office.

Shortly after Umbridge left, Severus came up for a visit, sitting obstinately on the sofa pushed against the wall. Peregrin was in the middle of an especially tedious repairing, which was done painstakingly by hand before being sealed by magic to ensure its longevity. He seemed to be deep in thought, and the silence was companionable for a time. As soon as Peregrin set the newly rebound volume on the stack of finished books, she sat back and looked over to him. The weight of the book produced a rather loud _thud_ that drew him out of his musings.

“You’ve rebuffed Umbridge’s proposal,” was all he said, head leaned back against the wall, his legs sprawled out lazily before him.

“I have,” she agreed, assuming a similar pose.

“Why?” he wondered aloud.

“I’m not interested in what she has to offer.”

“You know what she’s going to do.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. It’ll be worse than Gilderoy Lockhart. She’s a tyrant; you wait and see, the first lesson she’ll make them read out of the book during class and that’s all she’ll do. No practical help, no free thinking, it’s like that old guy yelling in that song _Another Brick in the Wall._ Who in their right mind has a self righteous, corrupt politician teach children?”

He nodded, almost to himself. “Will she put them in danger?” Severus asked.

“Yes.”

Severus sighed. “Potter, I presume?”

“As always.”

 

The welcoming feast was delicious. Peregrin thought she’d never had so much fantastic food; she resolved to go down and congratulate the house elves later. Dumbledore stood at the end of the feast, ready to give his welcome back speech, and Umbridge resettled in her seat next to Peregrine who had strategically placed herself between the woman and Severus. An alarm went off in her head, so suddenly did she remember what Umbridge was about to do she almost forgot to smile when she was introduced. There was a confusion of applause, some confused at Snape having a wife so young (or a wife at all), and others happy that Pince would be retiring at last. She noted Harry, Ron and Hermione joining in on the polite applause for her, but not so much for Umbridge.

Dumbledore got on with his speech, and Peregrin could feel Dolores gearing up for her piece. Peregrin looked over into her frog face and shook her head meaningfully. This worked only to make her stand faster, and her interruption more diligent.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Dolores simpered, “for those kind words of welcome.”

Peregrin put on her best bored face and stared forward, listening to the speech with half an ear and watching the students with the other. Severus was stock still on her other side, hands in his lap, and McGonagall was positively livid, brows bunched together to make her look like a hawk. Umbridge’s speech was like must other politicians speeches Peregrin had heard in the United States: vapid, superfluous, and tediously dull. She did catch a few lines she definitely didn’t agree upon, “progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged” for instance rankled her sense of justice, and the overall idea that she would be the Ministries strong arm to meddle in Hogwarts affairs was obvious.

When the feast was over she accompanied Severus to the Slytherin dormitories to make introductions and to give his piece about conduct and taking care of their own. Severus introduced her and she smiled at all the students in the assembly, a few of which smile back at her.  She saw Draco Malfoy in the mix, and he seemed skeptical of her presence, but overall the house seemed willing to accept her if she was with Snape.

 

Peregrin walked back before Severus to their rooms and sat on the bed, deep in thought, until she realized he was standing in front of her.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, stepping into her embrace. Her head was against his stomach, his fingers carding through her hair.

“Too much,” she replied.

“You can’t fix everything that’s wrong here,” he murmured. “I know you want to, but it’s too impossible of a task for one person. If you get the chance to change something you know needs a nudge in a better direction, take it, but meddling too much will backfire on you.”

“If you say so,” she grumbled, standing to kiss him on the cheek. He caught her off guard and kissed her properly instead. He slid his hands down her front to undo the clasps of her robes, dropping them unceremoniously on the floor. She snapped her fingers and his robes melted off him in a puddle, leaving them in under things and starving for skin contact.

He laid her down in the soft blankets and sheets, covering her body completely with his own, and proceeded to kiss her senseless. She was shaking with need by the time they got her knickers off and he took her slowly, savoring every sigh and moan. They collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily and ready to sleep like the dead.

“If this year is destined to be as awful as you say it is, at least we’ll have each other,” Severus mumbled, and wrapped his arms around her more comfortably before drifting off. Peregrin smiled sleepily at this and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

 

The following week of school proved Umbridge to be the awful person Peregrin predicted. Peregrin was immune to most of her tyranny; being a part of the library as a separate outsourced entity had its perks. Severus however was facing trouble on all fronts, from Dumbledore for not gathering the information he wanted on Voldemort, from Voldemort for not gathering the information he wanted on Dumbledore, and now from Umbridge for not siding with her in arguments about school policy or making Peregrin join him on her side.

They had been in a staff meeting, Umbridge on Severus’ left, Peregrin on his right, and Umbridge brought up disciplinary actions being taken for “unruly” students.

“Really, Albus,” she’d mock purred in her high pitched voice, “we need to make more decisive actions against these students who think they can undermine the Ministries rule. I’m sure others agree.” She chose then to put her hand on Severus’ arm which was lying still on the table.

Peregrin noticed the difference in the air and looked up from her planning directly at Umbridge’s hand on Severus’ arm. He looked immensely uncomfortable, so Peregrin favored Umbridge with her best cold, dead, angry glare, the glare she reserved for people who hurt or insulted her friends. Umbridge looked taken aback and released him immediately. After that, it was obvious neither of them was interested in siding with her and she left them alone about it for the time being.

 

Thursday evening of that week, Peregrin was minding some of the lightly cursed materials in need of repairing when Ron pulled Harry into her office without knocking and shut it quietly so as not to draw attention to their entrance form the outside.

She knew what it was before she was shown, but when Ron thrust Harry’s reluctant hand out in front of her she couldn’t contain her indignation. On the back of his hand was scratched "I must not tell lies" in angry red gashes. 

Peregrin fumed all the way over to the cabinet next to the sink in her personal bathroom where she pulled out a small dropper of Dittany and returned; dropping some on the words etched into the back of Harry’s hand Peregrin sat down, offering them the couch.

“Tell me what happened.”

The boys gave a colorful rendition of Umbridge in class a few days prior, ranting about how she made them read for their entire class period, and how she shot down every attempt at students asking her questions. Harry told her about his angry attempt at telling Umbridge the truth of what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, and the way that Cedric Diggory had really died.

Peregrin listened pensively, nodding at appropriate moments and thinking it all over.

“Well?” Harry prompted at the end of his tirade.

“I think you need to understand something about people, Harry. They believe whatever they want to believe, whatever makes them happiest. Believing that Voldemort is back doesn’t help people like Dolores. Her job hinges on the current state of the Wizarding World, and while it appears stable and working its way to a bright future, her job security is guaranteed. You and I know the truth of course, but her refusal to believe what you’re telling her is happening only makes it easier for Voldemort to pull the wool over her eyes and let her and her ilk to believe he’s still gone, which is just what he wants.”

Peregrin sighed and rubbed her temples. “I know it’s hard and it takes practice, but you can’t let her get to you like this. She has chosen to be ignorant, and knowing that you’re right, knowing that your friends and the important people in your life believe you, may be the only solace afforded to you. Take advantage of it.

“I can tell you from experience, when you’ve gone through something awful and nobody believes it happened, it makes you feel – and seem – like a raving lunatic, even to people you thought you could trust. Personally, I lie to people who aren’t in the know. Staying mostly quiet will take a lot of the slack Umbridge gives you, and may make her think you’ve been subdued so you can work behind the scenes to undermine her. These detentions need to be as sparse as possible, they’re pretty horrifying, and if something like this ever happens again, you come straight to me, don’t let it fester and get infected. If either of you boys need to talk, about anything, I am right here.

“Thank you for bringing him, Ron, I appreciate your forethought.”

As soon as the boys left, Peregrin flooed to Severus’ office where he was grading papers. Peregrin paced restlessly across his office floor, thinking angry thoughts.

Severus looked up from his work, watching her pace in bemused interest. “Knut for your thoughts?”

“I need to vent, but I don’t want you to reply, just follow along if that’s o.k.?”

He nodded, eyebrows raised.

“I cannot believe she would do that! Who the fuck uses bloodletting quills for corporeal punishment on children? CHILDREN! Babies! The shit-storm that is brewing over her head I swear to God – I want to snap her neck! Like a pudgy, annoying twig! But I can’t, because that isn’t something we do in positive social reconstruction because useless violence only incites further harm to the victims of the original abuses, but boy oh boy if there weren’t any personal consequences!”

Peregrin finally sat down in the now comfortable chair across from her husband who was listening with pursed lips. There was no need to say who Peregrin was so angry about. She huffed out a long breath of air and sat up in a more poised manner, appearing to have collected herself.

“Thank you. What I need is a long term plan to get her out of this castle. The curse on her job may not be quick enough, and the collateral damage in the form of student wellbeing is not a price I want to pay for waiting too long. Undermining her plan from the inside out may be beneficial, how susceptible do you think Draco Malfoy will be in listening to a better plan for his time here at Hogwarts?”

Severus was sitting in stunned silence at the whiplash switch of moods, and only then realized the question was directed at him.

“If you phrase your proposal in such a way that it isn’t blatantly helpful to Potters side, but casts Umbridge as the greater evil with fewer benefits to Draco’s endgame, he may listen.”

Peregrin nodded, almost to herself. “Have you ever seen _Sleeping Beauty_?”

“I can’t say I ever did,” he conceded, waiting for the point to make itself present.

“Well, there are these two fairies, that are a lot more like grandmotherly witches, who fight constantly over the color scheme of Sleeping Beauty’s things. They make her cake blue, then pink, then blue again, and the same happens for her dress. Personally, I leaned towards the blue fairy myself. I was thinking of recreating that, but with more of a slow burn. Maybe purple by Christmas, blue by the end of the year?”

Severus’ slow evil smile was confirmation enough. They had planning to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry to keep you waiting! Chapter 10 is in the works, I've got the end in mind but the devil is in the details ;).  
> I've been at school and fall break is only a fleeting solace from the multitude of essays I have to do. Ah! The life of an English major.  
> As usual, if you find any mistakes like spelling errors, plot details, or sentence structure oddities, don't hesitate to shoot me a comment and I'll get right on it! On that vein I am looking for a beta!  
> Thank you so much for your support and positive feedback, I look forward to your comments!


	10. Tears and Tyranny

Peregrin sat in her usual spot in between Severus and Dolores one morning, and happened to take notice of Dolores preening like the cat who got the cream.

“What’s got you in such high spirits this morning?” Peregrin asked, feigning interest.

“Oh you’ll see soon enough,” Dolores replied, her grin foreboding.

The Daily Prophet came through the owl post as usual that morning, and Peregrin’s pre-paid subscription landed before her, Dolores’ froggy face smiling up at her, with the headline reading:

**MINSTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”**

Fuck. It was happening.

“Excited about this new development, are you?” Peregrin queried gently.

“Oh yes,” Dolores crowed, delighted to have been asked. “It was the Ministers idea of course, but I was very active in making its inception.”

“It says here-“ Peregrin motioned to the Prophet, “-that you’ll be doing teacher evaluations.”

“Oh yes, we have to keep up the high standard of education the public expects from Hogwarts, and the Ministry intends to do just that. I’ll be going in to each classroom at an allotted time and reviewing each professor in turn for a detailed performance evaluation.”

“What kinds of questions do you think will come up?” she wondered idly, following the flow of the conversation to see how much more Umbridge would spill.

“They’ve been predetermined by a board. Length of tenure, details about their qualifications and various other things, I may even give tips about how they teach,” she replied in her usual high pitched, sugary sweet voice.

Peregrin nodded along, and made to read the rest of the paper. Severus had been leaning in inconspicuously, and was now whispering with Minerva. Eventually the news was passed along down the table, teacher to teacher, and reached Professor Grubbly-Plank who was filling in for Hagrid. Minerva seemed contemplative, Severus downright sour, Trelawney nervous, and Sprout unsurprised but overall optimistic. The rest of the staff was generally one of those, while Peregrin was glad to have given them a heads up.

Dolores was none the wiser, and Peregrin dipped into her morning fruit and coffee, contemplating any details she could remember about the original course of events in Harry’s fifth year. The club! That would be next to track down, and if she could intervene at the right moments it could go much better than its intended destination.

 

After Severus’ inspection he had a free period and flooed into Peregrin’s office. She was at work renewing some of the old enchantments on the library books from the restricted section, and was in the middle of a complex magical nexus surrounding the books ability to see its reader’s violent designs on others to egg them on. Severus waited patiently, secretly vary interested in the pulsing darkness surrounding the books magic. He watched her pluck out what looked like an old strand of spell work, discard it, and weave a new one to ensure the books longevity in the collection. As soon as she was finished she placed the book on the cart parked next to her desk and looked at him in askance. He saw how red and puffy her eyes were, and with some difficulty pushed aside his own taxing stresses to offer some comfort.

She stood up and wallowed into his embrace thankfully. He waited until after she took a deep breath and sighed before inquiring after the cause of her distress.

“I remembered one of my best friend’s birthday’s is going to be today in a few years – and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, it’s just a date like any other, but it hurts, Severus. It hurts so much. They’re all gone and I can’t have them back, and now I don’t have those friends that already know me who I can just go to for any reason and talk, and I’m so afraid I won’t be able to find any new ones. I really don’t like to be alone.”

He rubbed her back consolingly, feeling a chord of selfish jealousy that she’d had friends like that, but he could empathize with her loss. To have someone you called a friend and confidant to still exist elsewhere and yet be totally unreachable was a struggle he knew all too well.

“Distract me, tell me what you came to me about,” she said in a breathy voice, putting on a brave smile and wiping her tears away on a sleeve.

“Umbridge’s evaluation was today,” he began as they settled themselves on the couch. “She sat on a stool in the corner of my classroom and interrupted students in the middle of preparation for a rather delicate potion. Then, after ensuring that one of my own Slytherins wouldn’t be able to finish on time, she proceeded to question me about my background and had the nerve to tell me, _me,_ how to teach a potions class! As if I haven’t been producing the best Potioneers Hogwarts or any other institution in Europe has to offer for the last fourteen bloody years, and Oh! Haven’t I been applying for the Defense position? And wasn’t I unsuccessful in getting it? The nerve!”

Peregrin nodded understandingly at his agitated ramblings, grinning at his dramatization of the details.

“I want to start on your _Sleeping Beauty_ idea as soon as possible,” he groused.

“How do you want to do it? I’m sure I can make it irreversible if we can come up with some way to make all her things change color.”

“Oh, I have an idea,” he replied. “I most certainly do.”

 

Harry Potter sat uncharacteristically quietly in Peregrin’s office, watching her work slowly over a book binding with a needle and magically enhanced thread.

“What’s on your mind Harry?” she asked quietly, hardly disturbing the papery scrape of the needle going through the binding.

“My scar has been hurting a lot recently,” he muttered from the couch, looking rather forlorn while he rubbed at it absently. It was a messy scar, all across his forehead, like a lightning strike webbing out from his temple.

“How did you get it?” Peregrin wondered, very carefully finishing the stitching.

“Voldemort used the Killing Curse on me when I was a baby and it backfired on him somehow. I got this as a reminder.”

“What has everyone been telling you it’s supposed to be?” she asked, attaching the hard cover, newly embossed with silvery lettering. It didn’t match the pages by a long shot; they were browned with age, unevenly cut in some places, and seemed to have old blood flecks on the edges.

“Dumbledore and a few other people have mentioned it’s a curse scar, unique to the predicament it was made in. I guess it makes sense,” he said, hand falling away from his head.

“Hm.” Peregrin snapped her fingers, and in an instant five books and three scrolls _whooshed_ in through an overlarge mail slot above her door. She set aside the finished book and flipped simultaneously through pages in each of the five books, all of the summoned materials floating in front of her.

After some deliberation, she stacked them up on her desk and leaned back to think.

“According to the materials available in this library, that diagnosis is only partially correct.”

Harry’s eyes opened and stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Your scar is the result of a curse, that much is true, but none of this information mentions residual pain, excepting an itch when the weather changes or an ache in the cold. What does it feel like, when it hurts?” Peregrin knew she was treading on thin ice here, and allowed Harry to set the pace.

“It’s like a prickling sensation normally, but when it really gets going it’s like it’s trying to split my head in two! I’ve passed out from it before.”

Peregrin nodded to herself. “Do you want to know more about how to make the pain stop?” she asked quietly. “It won’t be easy, in fact it may be the biggest trial you have to face in your life, but I will stay with you through it if you ask me to. We can start from the beginning, the real details of how your scar was really made. If you want, that is.”

Harry was staring more intently now, glasses magnifying his emerald green eyes. “You know what it is already.”

“I do,” Peregrin replied, looking harry directly in the eyes. She was sincere as she could show, and made sure he knew it. “I can help you get started, help you understand, but I can’t just tell you the truth that easily. I’ll have to show you. Dumbledore has an idea of what is happening, what has happened so far, but he would rather use it for his own gains than end this war as quickly as it began.”

Mention of the war ending had Harry on his feet, far from his previously vegetative state.

“When do we start?” he asked quickly.

“As soon as you understand the repercussions of this: we won’t be able to tell anyone what we’re up to. We will be breaking the law on several occasions, but nothing overtly immoral. I will never ask more of you than you’re willing to give, and I won’t put you in more danger than I can get you out of without causing you pain. Ron and Hermione can know; it’s good to have friends to confide in and understand what’s happening, but not Dumbledore, not Arthur or Molly Weasley, nobody else.”

“Will Snape know?” Harry asked, face scrutinizing.

“He will know that I have you under my protection, and he will have a direct line from me to alert backup in case we get in over our heads. The details, however, will remain between the four of us.”

Harry nodded, thinking on it hard, eyes tracing the variety of instruments and tools on Peregrin’s desk.

“You can mull it over for a while if you want. We can start any time from this very moment on, but try not to stall forever.”

He looked perplexed. “Why are you helping me?”

“I can tell you about it after we take the first step.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it, talk it over with Ron and Hermione and I’ll let you know one way or the other.”

 

Hermione Granger was easy to follow, given her larger than life hair and confident step. The Hogs Head was stuffy and odd smelling, and the children that gathered around the table were so obviously out of place it was comical. Peregrin sat in an unoccupied seat next to Harry, who wasn’t likely to notice her presence invisible as she was, and she had a light charm on her seat to keep anyone from purposefully sitting on her. As the other possible members of their party showed up, Peregrin watched the other people in the seedy old bar shift and drink, their own meetings and transactions quiet and concealed. Aberforth, Dumbledore’s brother, gave Peregrin a passing glance to let her know he knew she was there and knew her purpose.

Finally the meeting commenced, and Peregrin sat motionless while Harry gave his speech, setting the tone for the club. Peregrin was almost in tears, and what finally gave her away was the tiniest sniffle that Hermione caught and reflexively cast a Disillusionment spell on her.

“Peregrin! What are you doing here?” Hermione exclaimed, wand still out.

“Put that away, you’ll scare the other patrons if they see it,” Peregrin replied. “I’ve muffled the ruckus we’ve made so far but I can’t hide an entire table of people without causing suspicion.”

“Did Dumbledore send you?” Hermione asked.

“Did Snape?” Ron asked just after. Everyone around the table seemed to take this as a possibility.

“Neither, I’m here because Harry is, and because you need someone to take the fall for you. I get to take responsibility for this if it goes sideways, if Umbridge gets a single whiff of your meeting I am to pose as its creator and the ring leader under Dumbledore so Umbridge won’t take it out on you. If you think for a second she wouldn’t resort to hurting you you’ve got another thing coming.”

“Why should we trust you? You’re married to _him_ ,” Cho Chang asked, her group of friends nodding along.

“It was arranged,” Peregrin replied quietly. Apparently those were the three magic words because Lavender Brown gasped in understanding, Cho’s mouth clamped shut, and several of the other girls gave her sympathetic looks. “And it’s irrelevant. I didn’t tell him where I was going to or for what purpose, and as soon as I sign Hermione’s contract I won’t be able to, now will I?” She turned to Hermione for confirmation. Hermione nodded solemnly.

“Then it’s settled. Free adult supervision, and a scapegoat. No tattling, no strings,” Peregrin replied calmly, palms out in front of her.

Harry looked at her for a long moment, scrutinizing. “You’re saying I can count on you to swoop in unexpectedly and pick us up as needed, just like last time.”

“I can’t guarantee Remus will be there but I can definitely pull off a repeat performance on short notice.”

“You know Professor Lupin?” This was the first time Neville actually spoke to her directly. His face was hopeful and she couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, we’re friends. He’s pretty cool; I’ve heard he was one of the best Defense teachers you guys have had so far.”

Neville nodded vehemently along with most of the rest of the group.

The signing was a long wait, and Peregrin held the quill awkwardly as she made the final signature, looking up into the faces of the three bravest kids she’d ever known.

“I’m sorry for ambushing you like this; I couldn’t interfere with your planning without throwing you off your path. I may not get to speak to you about this until the first meeting, if Umbridge tries to get a hold of you come to the library,” and she was off.

Ron looked to Harry. “Let’s hope she’s as genuine as she seems.”

“I think she is,” Harry replied.

“I think so too, I just hope she doesn’t interfere with any of our lessons or I’ll have to Obliviate her,” Hermione added in a saddened voice, earning a shared glance of fear from Ron and Harry.


	11. Return to the Chamber of Secrets

Severus woke up in an unusually good mood that Wednesday. The Dark Lord hadn’t called him in a whole week, Dumbledore had no grand assignments for him, the Hospital Wing potions had been holding out rather longer than he could have hoped for in the usual string of cold and flu that the season generally called for, and even the antics of the Weasley twins specialty candies hadn’t put a dent in his hand made batches of pepper up, nose bleed stopper, and the various and sundry other potions a Hospital Wing ought to have. The complete lack of his usual stresses besides Umbridge and teaching responsibilities would normally have him on edge, as he had come to expect the worst to be around the corner at any given interval, but it was awfully difficult to focus on such trivialities first thing in the morning when one’s beautiful young wife had her mouth wrapped around one’s cock.

He threw his head back into the pillow and moaned, grasping at the sheets in pleasue. 

Over the last few months Peregrin had gotten awfully good at this particular activity, and as a reward of her efforts Severus had applied himself equally to the art of cunnilingus, which was often far less taxing and staved off the need to have the usual kind of sex as often as they’d done when they were first wed.

Her mouth worked miracles in these moments. He arched his back into the feeling of having his cock swallowed all the way back into her throat and sucked until he thought she might suck his soul out, and he saw stars when she finally seemed to accomplish that very task. He collapsed back into the bed breathing heavily before the most wonderful languid kind of sleepiness fell over him. Equally sweaty and worn out, Peregrin crawled back up the bed, licking her swollen red lips clean of her occasional pre-breakfast protein shot, and laid down next to him in the sheets. He pushed her bangs out of her face to kiss her lazily, and let his head fall back onto the pillow. The brown mess of hair she kept had gotten longer since he’d first seen her, and she kept it plaited or pinned on top of her head these days. He felt a twinge of jealousy that she could keep it so healthy and neat, but he refused to dwell on such things.

They eventually got out of bed and made an attempt at a shower, but when she kissed him and pressed herself against him, wet in the hot spray, he had her wet and coming all over his fingers in a gasping moment of ecstasy before the mood could be forgotten. He was terrible with his impulse control when it came to her delectable body, but if she had asked him to stop he knew he could step away in an instant.

Finally put together and ready to face the world, they stepped out into the dungeon hallway and headed up to breakfast in the Great Hall as per usual. Peregrin’s fruit and tea for breakfast routine was completed before he could even finish his first slice of bagel, and she was off to the library. He would visit occasionally during his breaks, and her skills at repairing books by hand had become impeccable. Practice had truly made perfect her exacting re-binding and re-spelling the old reference books from ages past, and it was relaxing just to watch her work at carefully lining up the magically resistant pages by hand and binding the pages anew, her delicacy and precision not unlike potion making.

He thought about the upcoming holidays, still a few months off. What could he possibly give her? As a member of the elvish race she could not legally hold property or personal possessions under British Magical Law, so it couldn’t be anything material or otherwise conventional. He continued to dwell on the subject well into the day, and was still stumped by the end of it.

 

Peregrin met the rest of the members inside the Room of Requirement for their first meeting of the Defense Club. Setting herself aside on purpose, she asked for and received a small desk to sit at while the meeting took place. A room that could showed her any piece of information she wanted could be incredibly useful in her research of time travel, and of horcruxes and how to get them apart from living specimen without having to kill the specimen themselves, namely Harry, but also partially Nagini. Books began to appear almost as soon as she’d set down along with pencils (thank fuck!) and parchment. Hermione looked over at her curiously before Harry introduced their first topic but refrained from commenting on her presence.

The meeting went fairly well as far as Peregrin could measure, those present for the meeting elected Harry as leader, named it Dumbledore’s Army, and proceeded to practice disarming each other. Peregrin put a deflective shield up in case any stray spells came her way and watched Harry work idly while gingerly prying open the incredibly dark and rare seeming texts on Horcruxes the Room provided her with. One was waxing lyrical on the writer’s profound love of making the thing, stating that his Horcrux was his most beloved and cherished possession, never mind that he’d killed his own wife to make it. Another much older tome was in an old language, and Peregrin had to call on a past life of Thisiphone to interpret it: the author had killed his greatest foe in battle and made a Horcrux to celebrate, only to die by an avenging arrow. He was brought back to life in much the same manner Tom Riddle had, and ruled his overtaken kingdom for a few years before the account ended. Few of these books were referenced elsewhere, and one was covered in what was unmistakably blood from the sacrifice to resurrect a Horcrux owner. There was only a single account of the process by which one made the Horcrux on a scroll that might have turned to dust a century or more ago were it not for the strong protective magic still surrounding it.

In any case, reading about the gore and evils of the past did nothing to improve Peregrin’s mood, but she stayed on task. After the meeting ended, she asked Harry to stay behind. Ron and Hermione lagged behind as well, and she motioned them over as well.

“What have you decided?” she asked gently.

“I want to do it, but only if Ron and Hermione can come along. I can’t get by without them, I haven’t been able to since the beginning, and I couldn’t convince them otherwise when I told them about what you wanted to help me do,” Harry replied, eyes burning with uncertain determination.

“We need to be there for Harry,” Hermione stepped forward to say. “Whatever you’re doing, you’ll need more witnesses to back up your story of what you’ve been doing.”

“And we won’t take no for an answer,” Ron added. “We go with Harry, or he doesn’t go at all.”

Peregrin appraised the two, and they looked honest and strong in their convictions as she expected they would be.

“I hoped you’d want to come along. Today we’re going to do something in Hogwarts to help along Voldemort’s defeat.” She paid no mind to Ron and Hermione’s collective involuntary flinch. “We need to go down where the sun never shines and get a tooth from an old friend.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “The basilisk?” Harry reasoned out.

“Yes, the basilisk. I’ll explain as we go, but for now we should head on down to the first floor girls loo.”

 

The tunnel was about as dark and damp as Peregrin supposed it would have been three years ago when Harry had come down with Ron and Gilderoy Lockhart and killed the Basilisk. While they slowly made their way towards the dimly lit chamber of Salazar Slytherin, Peregrin filled them in on what exactly the details of their secret mission were.

“What we’re after here is called a horcrux. Horcruxes are incredibly dark magic, and are created after the maker murders someone. Murder is a heinous act, and it damages the soul of anyone who commits it, splitting the soul in half in the case of cold blooded murder. When that piece of soul splits off, it would normally go off to wherever whole souls go when they are separated from their living vessels, but with a special dark incantation it can be funneled into an object or another living thing like an animal. The purpose of doing this is so that if the original vessel is destroyed it anchors what’s left of its owners soul to this plane of existence so that a new vessel can be created to house the anchored soul half again, ensuring that the owner can continue whatever awful plans they were intent upon.”

“You mean like how Voldemort was resurrected in the graveyard last summer?” Harry asked, piecing it all together. “So he has a Horcrux that’s keeping him from being truly killed?”

“Yes and no,” Peregrin replied, “he has many horcruxes. Seven, to be precise.”

 Hermione piped up, “If he’s split his soul in half over and over again so much, that means he hasn’t got much soul left in him.”

“Right, less than one percent of Tom’s soul is still left in his body. Thankfully, Harry here’s already taken care of a good chunk of it. Tom Riddle’s diary was his first and largest Horcrux, so there are only seven other soul parts to go after including the bit inside Tom. The one we’re going after today, though, is a lot smaller and hopefully a little easier to get rid of. Each of the founders of this school has an artifact: Gryffindor has a sword, Hufflepuff a Cup, Ravenclaw a Diadem, and Slytherin a Locket. All but the sword Tom found and used as horcruxes, likely because he felt such a strong connection through his ancestry to them, and lucky for us, the Diadem of Ravenclaw happens to be in the castle.”

Hermione mulled this over. “So we’re getting basilisk venom from the corpse to destroy the Diadem like Harry did with the Diary.”

Peregrin nodded, stepping over skins and rat droppings until they reached the gigantic skeletal remains of the Basilisk. “Any questions?”

“How do you know all of this?” Ron asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion, “How can we trust that this isn’t just some game to get us all killed?”

“I’d make an Unbreakable Vow if it made you feel any better,” Peregrin offered idly while gathering some of the old skins to make a bag for the fangs.

Ron stopped his perusal of the corpse. “But you can’t break an Unbreakable Vow.”

“Worked that out for ourselves, thanks,” Harry replied sarcastically, picking out a few of the teeth that were especially loose.

“Be extremely careful with these,” Peregrin told them. “Yes Ron, I am as sincere as I can be, and I know all of this because I’m not from here in any form of the expression,” a few of the great hand length teeth fell into the bag as they worked over the skull for loose ones.

“Only about ten will be needed, if we need funds for travel I’m sure we could sell one,” Peregrin made sure not to prick her arm on one of the sharper fangs.

“You’re not from here,” Hermione repeated. “Not from this country, or this world… or this dimension?”

“You really are the brightest witch of your age. I can’t wait to see what you do when you leave Hogwarts,” Peregrin told her fondly. “I’m not from anywhere local, dimensionally or otherwise, I’m from elsewhere with out magic in a future time. Much of this information is common knowledge where I’m from, and it’s in my best interest as well as the interests of the free world as we know it to use that knowledge to the best of our abilities. If we don’t the war will drag on another two years, people you and I both care about will die, and I really don’t want that to happen.”

“Peregrin you’re meddling with time!” Hermione shot back. “What if you doing all of this could mess up the flow of time, what if it turns out worse than what it did originally? You can’t meddle with the fates like this; all things have purpose in the plan! They tell us this as soon as we receive Time Turners, and we must all be careful with how we bend the flows of time or else we may be punished.”

“I’m not from your future, though, and I’m not meddling with time, not truly. My very presence is a diversion from what I know as the canon of this world; it is itself a separate universe. It’s not just me doing all of this, there will be great pain and repercussions in the elvish race because of the war to come, and minimizing damage to them, ensuring the earliest possible demise of their destroyer, is Thisiphone’s greater purpose for choosing a vessel during times of threat to her children.”

Hermione looked at Peregrin for what seemed like a long time, processing and making a decision. Harry and Ron stood to the side, keeping out of their debate, knowing better than to interrupt.

“You’re here for elvish welfare?”

Peregrin blinked. “Yes, of course I am! Elves were made into servants for humankind after their discovery to ensure the survival of their race in whatever capacity could be managed. Slavery is only a boat the Gods chose for them to ride through time until they reach their own promise land, and I hope that can be found sooner rather than later.”

“But you’re not trying to free them!”

“Keeping them alive seems paramount given that if they’re all dead there will be no one to free. These weren’t my decisions Hermione; I’m just a tool for Thisiphone to care for her children.”

“So you don’t care about us then? You’re only in this because you’re being forced by some elvish god?”

“No, I do care. I care about what happens to you, I wouldn’t have let you come along if I didn’t care what happens to Harry, I wouldn’t have gone and gotten Harry out of those awful people’s house ahead of schedule, and I wouldn’t be working my ass off behind the scenes towards an end that preserves you and those you care about. Sirius would be dead by now if he wasn’t so important to Harry, and that tyrannical pink monster would have done far worse to you if I didn’t care. It might be easier not to but it’s not in me to let people I care about suffer when I have the power to help,” Peregrin told her, shaking and breathing heavily.

“Peregrin are you alright?” Harry asked, stepping forward cautiously.

“I will be when this is over and done with.”

Hermione nodded, convinced. “Alright let’s go.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. “We’ve got a crown to smash.”

“Diadem,” Peregrin and Hermione corrected at once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to keep the chapters all about the same length, so the next one will be a doozy I promise! Love you guys! <3


	12. Knowledge of Good and Evil

Walking back up to the Room of Requirement, the cold stone halls were dark except the ones students used to get back to their dorms from dinner in the Great Hall. In a long stretch of completely blackened hallways, Peregrin could hear her three cohorts breathing and walking a few steps behind, and was surprised when a warm hand brushed her arm. A familiar scent filled her nose and she was reassured of the identity of the person who had joined then on their trek.

“For the love of God you need to learn how to make some noise when you walk,” she groused, readjusting the basilisk skin satchel on her shoulder. The tinkling of teeth inside intrigued him.

“When those three are involved in anything it generally gives me reason to suspect, but _your_ involvement…” he muttered from beside her. Three gasps in unison sounded from behind her.

“I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to, Severus,” Peregrin replied.

“Hmph,” he grunted, and they passed diagonally through a lit corridor into another darkened one, giving Peregrin a chance to turn back to the three suspicious fifth years behind her and offer a reassuring wink.

“You know how good I am at keeping secrets. I keep all of yours, don’t I?”

“I suppose you do,” he admitted passively.

“I keep secrets for all my friends and family, even if that means keeping secrets from each of them individually for another. I wouldn’t ask you to tell all you know of your friends now would I?”

He stayed silent as they made their way up a well lit staircase and up into the seventh floor.

“No one is in danger of being hurt, or of hurting themselves or others. Is that good enough?” she prodded.

“It will have to do, I suppose.” Severus nodded to her almost formally and departed to a different staircase climbing higher and into the waiting darkness as they rounded a lit corner.

The foursome came up to where the Room of Requirement would usually appear.

“What are we doing back up here?” Ron asked in confusion.

“The Room of Requirement isn’t just a single room for Defense clubs or a loo, it’s whatever you need it to be. Focus on how illegal it is for us to be carrying around these fangs, how much trouble we’d be in with the school _and_ the authorities for possessing these materials, and how badly you want to hide them where they’ll never be found again.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other for a moment, and made their passes of the wall three times before the door appeared. Inside were heaps and mounds of… stuff. Cabinets, broken brooms, broken mirrors, old text books and letters and anything else you might imagine someone could want to hide over the last thousand years was cluttered up everywhere. Alleys ran between mountains of junk leading back towards who knew, the ceiling was vaulted higher than any in Hogwarts, and Hermione fancied aloud that it grew with the size of its collection.

“Is the Diadem really somewhere in here?” Ron asked quizzically.

“If it is I’m sure we’ll never find it,” Harry added miserably.

“Actually, I think it’ll be a little easier than you’re making it out to be,” Peregrin told them. She handed Harry the sack of poisonous teeth. “Go hide this for me and call us over when you’ve found a good spot.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but obeyed and scurried off to find a spot.

Peregrin turned back to Hermione’s fearful stare. “How can Harry find the Diadem without knowing he’s looking for it?” she asked quietly, seeming to not want to know the answer.

“He doesn’t need that kind of stress right now. When the time is right he’ll ask that same question for himself, but right now we need to focus on the task at hand,” Peregrin told her softly.

Harry whistled for them, and they met him in a convergence of alleys. There was an old wardrobe with the hinges broken on one of the doors, and inside sat an ugly wig on an even uglier bust. A crude tiara sat on top, unassuming and fitting for its stand.

“I thought we could hide them in the drawers for safe keeping until we find the Diadem,” Harry piped up, almost proud.  

“You’ve already found it, dear heart,” Peregrin told him, holding out a hand for the bag. “Nobody touch it just yet, I want to form a plan of attack first.”

“That’s it?” Harry asked in confusion. “That old thing? What awful sort of fashion sense did people have back in the eighth century?”

Peregrin chuckled, levitating the bust up in the air before upending the diadem from it to let it topple to the dusty floor. They felt a wave of anger come off it, and stepped back as one. The air seemed thicker, more charged all of a sudden.

“So,” Ron asked nervously, “who wants to stab it?”

Harry looked at Peregrin questioningly. “Don’t look at me,” she answered, a little nervous herself. “I can’t kill with magic, only in the muggle ways, and this would most definitely count as a magical attack.”

“You mean for one of us to do it.” It wasn’t a question.

“Want the war to end don’t we?” Ron grumbled, holding out a hand.

Peregrin hesitantly put one of the basilisk fangs in Ron’s hand.

“I’ll be here the whole time with all the magic of the Elvish godhead to keep you from harm.”

Ron didn’t seem to find that reassuring.

“You’re sure you want to do this, mate?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. For my family. For you guys,” he replied with conviction, and nodded to Peregrin in warning.

On his knees, Ron Weasley plunged the serpents tooth down into the metal and jewels of the front of the diadem and the most horrifying scream of agony issued from both the Diadem and poor Harry, who now had his hand clamped over his forehead and was writhing on the ground in pain. A great cloud of dark awful energy lifted out of the poison covered dent in the metal, swirled malevolently towards them, and dissipated.

“Harry,” Hermione exclaimed, going immediately to his aid, “what’s wrong?!”

“My scar is killing me,” Harry panted.

“It will pass soon,” Peregrin replied softly, and helped Ron to his feet, smiling at him. “Only six more pieces to go now.”

“Well, if it was as easy as that we shouldn’t have any problem,” Ron replied boastfully despite how his hands were shaking.

Hermione helped Harry to his feet when the pain in his head stopped throbbing so badly, and Peregrin gave him a once over just in case.

“I’m afraid they’ll be a lot harder from here on out, but we’ll be prepared.” Peregrin carefully levitated the Diadem back onto the ugly wig where it had been, and they hid the fangs in the drawers of the cabinet so they wouldn’t be found before heading out.  

With the children safely ensconced in their tower, food and drink provided by Dobby the house elf, Peregrin made her way down to the dungeons in search of someone important.

Draco Malfoy stood in an alcove alone, hidden in shadow unless one knew someone was there. Peregrin took her place on the other side against the wall, and warded the entrance of the alcove from prying ears.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve to ask me here,” he grumbled imperiously.

“I want you to consider your options.”

“What options?” Draco asked distrustfully.

“The kind that help you save yourself and your family.”

“Go on.”

“Logically, given the delicate situation your family is in just now, do you really think it would be in your best interests to put all your eggs in one basket?”

Draco watched her, expression closed. “What do you have to offer?”

“Should things start to sway in a more obvious direction, and should that direction point to someone other than your current house guest, there are steps that can be taken to ensure your families survival, and the survival of your reputation. All you have to do is ask.”

“What’s in it for you?”

Peregrin paused. “Not much now. I will need you after all of this business is finished, and can be of further help should I incur dept to you past what I am due. This can be a mutually beneficial arrangement, and you won’t be exposed to the Dark Lord while he still resides where he can hurt you.”

They stood for a while, Draco looking passive, Peregrin equally indifferent.

“I will address your proposal with my father.  I can do no more.”

“I would also encourage you to make your choices carefully with your head and not your heart in the near future. If you are to come out of this as neutrally as possible, with ability to gain favor on the winning side, what good will it do you to be on the side of the ignorant?”

Draco nodded and turned to leave, bumping into Severus in the hallway.

“Professor,” Draco greeted him, and walked unfazed toward his dorms.

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t ask until they were safely within the confines of their rooms.

“Anything I should be aware of?” he wondered, shucking off his outer robes.

“No,” she replied, eyebrows together in thought. Peregrin sat on the bed, exhausted from the day’s events.

“I know that your plan is important enough to be kept secret, but I can’t keep out of your way when I don’t know what your way is,” he growled, frustrated. He threw his robes into the hamper in their bedroom and turned to face her.

“I can’t tell you because many of the secrets the whole plan would require revealing are not mine to tell, and some are time sensitive. I will tell you the whole thing in time, but it’s so convoluted and confusing at this point that hashing it out more than once would take too much out of me. I just need you to keep doing what you’ve been doing.”

“And what is that, exactly?” Severus asked fists clenched as he took a step towards her. “Groveling at the feet of three masters while you go behind my back to scheme and plot? With _Potter_ no less? How can I trust you when you won’t tell me what you’ve been doing?”

Peregrin sighed and scrubbed her face with her hands. “I’m ending the war early,” she offered.

“I know your endgame, but what are you running around doing with Potter? ”

“Harry, Ron, and Hermione are instrumental in ensuring that when the final blow hits Tom he will be truly dead. He was resurrected before because of the precautions he took before his disappearance, and what we’re doing is making sure that won’t happen again.”

“And those meetings you’re having with all those Gryffindor students?” he accused.

“That’s to thwart Umbridge, but I do use that time to study up on what we’re trying to accomplish.”

“You read dark texts around students?” Severus looked incredulous.

“They can’t see the book’s contents and I have a containment field around my workspace. I’m not an idiot.”

Severus sighed and unclenched his fists. “Fine. When _will_ you tell me?”

“I’m going to make it a more public event with the Order, likely during the Holidays,” Peregrin replied conversationally in the face of his outrage, and took her shoes off following his example.

“You think it wise to let Dumbledore in on this information as well?” Severus was half way out of his trousers by the time she replied and in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt.  

“Much more than that, I’m going to shred him to pieces with it. He will have little choice but then to help us with the final pieces when I present him with irrefutable evidence in front of his own order. I should also have a bribe by then if things start to go south.”

“He’ll never go along with it. Even if it was his plan confronting Dumbledore with demands as an equal is unwise, he prefers groveling to anything,” he told Peregrin, leaving the _I should know_ out as a given.

“Thisiphone agreed with the plan as soon as I’d thought of it. I don’t have much of a choice. When I can tell the Order the version of events they’re going to need to proceed with the plan, I’ll fill you in with the things they don’t need to know. I’m sorry I’m making you wait, but I want you to have the full picture and it won’t make sense until then.” _And I don’t want you to leave me yet_ she thought, anxious about what his reaction would be if he learned he had at one time only been a book character to her.

Finally clothed for bed, they got under the covers and dimmed the lights. Peregrin scooted up closer to him for warmth and to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you,” she whispered.

Severus sighed and moved to embrace her. “I didn’t think you would.”

She listened to his breathing even out for a long time, thoughts racing through what he might think of her, how much she would miss this if he hated her afterwards, and forced herself to relax and stop thinking about the future when she couldn’t know what he would think. It would go well, she told herself. She would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience and support! School is crazy (as always) and I'm trudging through but I finally ironed out some kinks in this chapter and I hope you liked it!


End file.
